O.C. POP MUSIC REVIEW : Benefit Exceeds Expectations; Cast Doesn’t

IRVINE — Headliner Richard Marx probably overstated the impact of the”KIIS and Unite” AIDS benefit when he predicted from the Irvine Meadows stage Saturday that “this night is going to send a message across the country and hopefully around the world.”

Sorry, Richard. In April of 1992, unlike April of 1775, it was the Brits, not the Yanks, who fired the shot heard ‘round the world. Last Monday’s “Freddie Mercury Tribute: Concert For AIDS Awareness” from London, with David Bowie, Guns N’ Roses and Elton John, completely overshadowed the KIIS event in emotion, exposure and star power.

Which isn’t to say that the Irvine event misfired. At the end of the seven-hour concert, it was announced that the show and a two-day radiothon on KIIS-FM (102.7) had raised more than $250,000 in cash and pledges for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation--more than double the benefit’s target figure of $100,000.

If only the music had exceeded expectations, too.

There were some fair performances and a few memorable moments in the 16-act bill. But that bill was padded with an off-putting excess of canned music--Shanice Wilson, Tony Terry, Celine Dion and Luther Vandross all sang brief sets to instrumental tracks, a method that doesn’t belong in a major concert venue.

Granted, the organizers wanted to stud the show with as many star names as possible, and stage logistics couldn’t permit full bands for all 16 acts. But the compromise in terms of artistry was too great. The obvious answer, if talk about another benefit next year comes to fruition, is to book fewer acts and give each one more time to stretch out (most sets were only about 15 minutes long).

That said, Vandross’ singing was exquisite on the ballad, “A House Is Not a Home,” its subtlety and depth of feeling momentarily making the lack of real musicians behind him irrelevant.

Dion also generated a nice moment by re-creating her film duet, “Beauty and the Beast,” with Tony Terry filling in for original partner Peabo Bryson (Terry sang ably, but for a guy who quickly stripped to the waist during his own set to show off his muscles, he seemed curiously shy and standoffish as a romantic duet partner).

Some acts overcame logistic limitations by stripping down their sound but still making real-time music.

Jody Watley, running counter to her hot dance-diva image, turned up in demure, loose-fitting white clothing and sang a single ballad backed by a keyboards player--an approach the day’s track-backed R&B; singers could also have taken. Kenny G had just a synthesizer player with him as he tooted his sweet-and-mellow, brie-and-wine-cooler music on soprano sax.

Hard rockers Firehouse played an all-acoustic set that shed the metal bombast of their recorded work and kept the focus on the pop hooks and harmonies that are the band’s strong suit. Eddie Money and his band also played acoustic. They could have used some electric sock, but the husky-voiced singer, unfazed by a microphone failure, did his usual yeomanly, nothing-fancy job.

The ear-splitting sound of shrieking female youth heralded Color Me Badd as contenders for the new New Kids crown (Marx, Vandross, Firehouse and rappers Heavy D. & the Boyz also were accorded warm welcomes, but the mostly teen-aged crowd of KIIS listeners was by far most enthralled with the Badd boys). The multi-ethnic Oklahoma vocal foursome plunked itself on stools, abandoned its hip-hop rhythm base, and concentrated on soul balladry set to acoustic guitar accompaniment. CMB’s two songs, “Thinkin’ Back” and “I Adore Mi Amor,” were hardly enough for the fans, who seemed not to mind the group’s irksome nasal-whining lead vocals (Badd’s ensemble harmonies weren’t half bad).

Only five acts played in a full, electric band format.

L.A. Guns arrogantly expected an audience of Top 40 radio fans (tickets were all distributed by KIIS) to bow down like so many Waynes and Garths before its standard-issue metal onslaught. After the audience had remained inert through an indifferent set in which the vocals were muffled and melodies weak, L.A. Guns’ bassist signed off by churlishly and obscenely berating the crowd.

The classy Smithereens were far more adaptable. Primarily an alternative and album rock band, the New Jersey group was playing to fans who didn’t know Smithereens from chili-with-beans.

But singer Pat DiNizio and company responded by working hard to win the audience with enthusiasm--including a long, aisle-wandering guitar solo by Jim Babjak, and much DiNizio cheerleading to get the crowd involved.

It would have been annoying pandering at one of the band’s own shows, but in this context, it was the commendable work of pros bent on getting across. To do it, the Smithereens didn’t sacrifice a bit of their sharp, propulsive rock attack.

Keith Sweat’s sound was so garbled that his set never took shape, mercifully stopping after 10 pointless minutes. Amy Grant operated at less than full-speed during a half-hour set of her pop hits; she announced she was expecting another baby, and maybe that slowed the usually energetic singer down. It hurt worse, though, that her voice was crowded by a too-prominent bass.

The stage crew took 23 minutes to fine-tune Marx’s sound rig, and it paid off in a clean, crisp band sound. Marx doesn’t have an identifiable personal vision--his most probing number, “Hazard,” recycled imagery from Bruce Springsteen’s “The River”--but he knows how to bait a pop hook.

Marx’s set offered a couple of nice surprises: a simple acoustic cover of Sam Cooke’s “Wonderful World,” and a walk-on duet by Luther Vandross during “Keep Coming Back” that provided some vocal sparks and a show of evident warmth between the singers.

Among the rap contingent, P.M. Dawn’s dreamy, hippie-daze music, so alluring on record, failed to take hold live due to too-mild raps that were overwhelmed by canned content.

The best moments came in brief a cappella harmony codas between rapper Prince Be and his DJ brother, Minutemix. P.M. Dawn would be better off following Soul II Soul’s example and forming a full band to translate its lush studio sound-scapes to the stage.

A limber and lively crew of dancers helped Heavy D. operate at a high energy level. But the set was given to typical rap antics like an extended boys-versus-girls crowd yelling contest. Amid the tumult, Heavy D. did stop to declare “a moment of silence for those who have passed away from this dangerous disease, and those who may pass away.”

Many other performers alluded to the cause at hand (the Pediatric AIDS Foundation is dedicated mainly to treating AIDS in children and finding ways of preventing transmission from infected mothers to newborns).

But it was unsettling to hear a few performers and intermission speakers remark on the blamelessness of children who contract AIDS. While those comments were not made in a mean-spirited way, and while it’s true enough that children with AIDS are blameless, what is gained by the implied distinction between AIDS in “innocent” kids and in sexually active adults?

While it may make good sense scientifically and medically to deal with children’s AIDS as a distinct field (as the Pediatric AIDS Foundation does), it serves no purpose to compartmentalize the disease in public discourse.

It was left to a disc jockey from KIIS to provide a needed broadening of the day’s context: “People with this disease . . . need your love, no matter how or why they got into the predicament,” he told the crowd during a break.

The three members of Wilson Phillips made a similar point less passionately during a prepared speech, but most of the crowd seemed more focused on whether the pop trio would sing (it didn’t) or on its frilly-nothings wardrobe (collectively, the group looked like an ad for Victoria’s Secret).

Only one musician, Color Me Badd’s Kevin Thornton, specifically addressed the question of AIDS awareness among teen-agers and young adults, who, after all, were the show’s audience. He told how Magic Johnson’s AIDS revelation forced him to take the disease seriously, and prompted him to get an AIDS test (Thornton said he tested negative).

“It’s your obligation and your duty to go get checked, so do it,” Thornton urged the audience.