Adam – A Musical Beau Brummell for the 21st Century
There he goes, my baby walks so slow……….. yeah!!
updated 30 December 2010
9 January 2010
By Xena – co-author of the book On the Meaning of Adam Lambert
Beau Brummell anew for the 21st century. A haberdasher’s delight, but the wardrobe never overwhelms the glittery, sculpted features of Adam’s face or his personality and it flatters the physique with room to move. Brummell claimed to have taken five hours to dress for an occasion and it’s not hard to imagine our Beau taking all that and more, as he tended to his physical presentation – the ultimate compliment to a New Year’s Eve date with one, hundreds or thousands.
Manicured, pedicured, bathed in Homme, coiffed with a powerful windswept profile, undergarments of indeterminate fashion and on which we hesitate to speculate, however we hope comfortable and spacious, now he’s ready for the outer fresh, crisp layers, the shiny wrapping and silk ribbon. Observe gentlemen, the proper wearing of a tie with a buttoned-up dress shirt for evening, which knot tonight? Careful and confident wrist action, hand over hand and it nestles into the hollow ready to take it. More will be revealed later about the pleasures of layering, de-layering and details.
Our Beau steps into glitter-striped tuxedo trousers, the very invention of the Regency gentleman Brummell, buttons up the vest, then, reflecting the fireworks as their sparks drizzle down the lapels, directing our eyes to his centre, is the long, dandy coat. Northern lights alter the hue of his suit from dark mauve to puce to obsidian, in flashes. And the most delicate of accoutrements – the precious tie tack and cuff links on perfectly peeking French cuffs, there to tease as the coat sleeve slides up, then hides away when the hand goes down. Jeweled accoutrements show restraint to not compete with the party-face. He pulls on the perfectly polished boots – zip!
Finally the ultimate item of physical modesty, Victorian? Traced with intricate embroidery, the gloves so fitted they must be zippered. Just how dangerous to our sensibilities are those long, silver tipped fingers that they must be half covered? Is it for our protection they are always partially hidden from our view? Will the sight of our Beau’s undressed fingers coiled around the mic or running through his hair, smoothing a trouser leg or pointing to a lover, send us into paroxysms of swoons and apoplexy? Close-up photos of unadorned fingers and hands are in a secret file, marked “X”.
Purring his way gracefully along the red carpet, turning here and there, a smile, a nod to hundreds of snapping lenses and no eyes on which to focus, just clicking, disembodied voices “Adam! Over here!” and blinded by the flashes. I hear Fever playing in my head, as theme music “There he goes, my baby walks so slow…..” as he takes the final stroll – how long will it take to see “Fever”! This is the song that got me into so much trouble with daughter Xena II, at two a.m. when I drove up my street – it’s just never loud enough for me. This is a club song and I want, need, must go to a club so I can dance in the dark to the throb as it syncs my heart beat to match. “It isn’t time, no, but could you be m-mine? ….Oh Baby, light’s on, But your mom’s not home”
And so our Beau Adam presents himself, not to a Regency salon, but to his hostess for the evening, the estimable Lady Pom Pom, with no time for dress fittings, a retro Monroe look perhaps – the pinned-on bed sheet as she scampered from her trailer and so rushed, sans proper foundation garments, yet obviously quite comfortable in her déshabillé style for which she is known, glass in hand, pardon – plastic beverage cup in hand – safety first on that stage.
For the guest, the formalities of hand-kissing and a little game of “Catch the Pom Pom” on stage before the hostess steps back into waiting arms and legs.
Just what are we in for tonight? He’s the very image of the mannered gentleman, the Blue Eyed Devil, the dapper dude in spats, another grown-up Adam. No live television, no official cameras – could he treat us to one unfettered, unrestrained night of passion on stage? A magic carpet ride to escape, reality for a time suspended, through the fire-lit sky, sparks fly and thunder claps signal his arrival.
Smoke hangs in the air and obscures the illumination, effective chiaroscuro for a mystical atmosphere, allowing the panther shadows to play in, behind the light.
A cool caged Panther, sardonic smile, shows a claw and warms up with a couple of modest, teasing, pleasure circles. He’s just told us to not take him or ourselves too seriously, to expect a little of that Maestro of the underworld lust and the pelvic thumping , circling that little hula hoop he balances beneath the trousers. Let’s hope he plays that game judiciously, before someone loses an eye or needs a defibrillator. Note to self: check venues where Adam appears for defibs.
Slinky, strutting now pacing and preening, no precious kitten in view, simply the large cat on the prowl, he surveys the prey. An array of hot, dainty goodies in front of him and a hot one closer, much closer and he wants them all.
The cat pulls back now and then, playing with the spectators by retreating into the shadows, prowling the perimeter to find the right moment to – strike! With a finger, a kick, a God-help-us lift of the trouser leg, to loosen some unseen restraint?
Introduction, Music Again & If I Had You – stomping, stripper hip swings, just proving life would be a party with him, grabbing us with his arm gestures toward the audience “The fashion and the stage might get me high” so true! And us too!
Whataya Want From Me Contained and emotional, but tossing out a little male maneuver in the bass corner – a definite crowd pleaser.
Soaked – confined to stool – perched, operatic, melodramatic, defiant solace in a flask. He’s overwrought and whiskey drenched. Breathless pause, gives –in?
For Your Entertainment & Sleepwalker – After the flying fingers of Monte, voice climbs with ad lib blues, soul and a James Brown crouch-down finish, cape and all.
Introduction & Strut – Wow to the choreography, runway model, club baby, shades of Fosse with a raunchy edge.
Very Long, graceful fingers work hard and need to be partially sheathed for their protection. Bare hands – the new erogenous zone? Sorry, out of focus for a moment – back to the performance. Juneau is a very bad influence on me.
Madness Down the Rabbit Hole, slowly, quietly builds to frantic pacing and descent to madness and we realize the other worldly voice we hear on the CD is his!
Band is physically cohesive in the confined space – bumping and grinding on each other, the stage is dense and Adam uses furnishings and people as props, lifts a foot to show his boots and while there, shows us the smooth texture of the fabric of his trouser leg as he strokes down, then up with his gloved hand up to his – is this the reason for the hand covering? Maybe naked hand and fingers arranging trousers would bring on the overlords of censorship. Did they miss the teasing Sneaky holding back the curtain on the GB? Had this been live television, the sound and camera operators would have given up trying to follow the glitz he’s going to display, it’s all glitz and you gotta just hold on until it’s over.
Mic stand dance partner – ballroom smooth twirls, smoldering Tango or the Bull in a menacing Paso Doble. Working the coattails – cat tails? When he turns away, it sways like a flirtatious lady’s ball gown as he swings it and sweeps us along with him. Blatantly inviting our voyeurism, he circles Tommy then moves away, pulls him in, walks back, then the panther finally nuzzles the prey after his little cat and mouse game.
Thrusts, pumps and crotch circles nudging gratuitous but never quite out of context, even though he could sustain many minutes of thrusts and gyrations without missing a beat or wearing himself out – he moves on with the music.
Fever – By now it’s 105 and rising, throbbing drum never lets up – we hope we’ll be invited to the ménage a trois but non, he sets us straight as his “Baby” is right over there on stage.
Adam is not afraid of the grand gesture, the big statement, because he can carry them off effortlessly, with that siren voice and lithe body, gifts from Mount Olympus and oh, a mind that conjures such moments with an audience. He must be visited by Eros in his slumber , arousing temptations to share with us when next we meet.
His entire performance is designed to engage everyone in view with each song. He’s always been that kind of performer – recall the sad and youthful lamentations of his Upright Cabaret performances, his frankly sexual Citizen Vein and the larger-than-life commanding and mythological characters of The Zodiac Show. As of January 1st, 2010, Adam shares the stage with all of them and if there are any other Adam persona lurking, we’re sure to meet them in a concert.
Whole Lotta Looooove is so familiar to us now, but his new elements surprise and haul us in to his orbit. Pumping drum solo, wailing guitar, impassioned demands of singer. Performer and audience trading pheromones, the adrenaline, the heart pumps, breathless. When the performance is so perfect, it builds confidence, the peacock spreads his tail feathers unconsciously and the message is no longer subliminal, it’s outright sexy and uncompromising in demands.
Sustained hip thrusts, drum and wailing guitar solos build to the grande jeté, triple pirouette, fall to his knees explosion as the last firecracker lights up the stage. All mental and emotional restraints are off now as the panther hits a sustained crescendo in voice and unloads what’s left in his arsenal of erotic weapons. We’ve inhaled the residual smoke and are left gasping.
Whew! We’re dabbing hankies to our foreheads, upper lips, down the décolleté. Where’s Lady Pom Pom with that sheet? Wait! I’m at home, I’ve removed a sweater all ready and there’s snow outside. Our Beau however, is still standing, still perfect – such stamina! Not so much as a loosened tie, unbuttoned shirt, flapping shirttail, damp collar, limp hair, nothing is ever limp about Adam. Beau Brummell would be proud of his protégé. Adam looks like he could go another round, but it won’t be here, as much as he warmed up this audience to the point of no return, they’re wasted now, lucky if they can drag each other home.
Did the abundantly endowed Beau deliver one unfettered, unrestrained night of passion on stage? A magic carpet ride to escape reality for a time suspended?
It’s early still in L.A. and hours yet to party. Will Adam play-out a little striptease as he moves about the parties, shedding a couple of layers here and there for comfort? Or, will he wait until he gets home. He might ask for help. Volunteers? Anyone? Please take a number and stand in line. First, for someone to slide the coat down his arms and hang it up. What comes next? A few choices – unbutton the vest perhaps, but left in place for now, there are cufflinks and a tie tack in need of safe-keeping in their velvet, satin-lined box.
Then carefully sliding the tie apart, lifting the collar and leaving the longer, wider piece in front, but gently pulling the narrower, shorter back end up through the centre of the knot, then the slinky, smooth must be shaken loose to protect the delicate surface of the silk. This procedure is best done from behind, so we might have the subject seated for ease of access, a requirement with one so tall, and on our way there, inhale the hot Homme-laden aura. Hold onto something so you don’t fall. As we swing around front, he unbuttons the top of the shirt, we move down the row to finish the job as he carefully removes the rhinestones from his eyes, diminishing in sparkle not a joule.
Finally, he holds out his hands, palms down, fingers taut and outstretched “take them off”. Deep breath in, exhale slowly. Delicately, one zipper then the other is drawn to the end, splitting open the luscious, supple kid to reveal the smooth, pale flesh beneath. He wiggles his fingers impatiently as we concentrate and with thumb on top and fingers below, pull on the glove and it glides off in our hand, such long fingers – so soft but firm.
p.s. following his appearance on the People’s Choice Awards, Xena will be having a little chat with Mr. Depp to introduce him to a couple of wardrobe stylists she knows, along with a master hair stylist. Then Mr. Depp can return his outfit to the Salvation Army, where some poor men might want their clothes back.
p.p.s. here’s a fan video “Adam Lambert – All Dressed Up & Going Places” that showcases Adam as fashionista. A feast for the eyes and style sensibilities.