Springfield stirs up familiar frenzy

by Tom Maurstad
The Dallas Morning News
May 9, 1999

With two acts down and one to go, the biggest screams of the show came with the announcement that headliner Rick Springfield was wearing tight leather pants. And so the teenybopper heart of this Saturday night was revealed.

The Starplex concert was billed as an '80s retro show, but there was nothing past tense about the adoration heaped at the feet of Mr. Springfield, who is back on the road after a decade-plus hiatus. The crowd filling much of the reserved seating was mostly couples, but once Mr. Springfield took the stage, the evening's personality was clear - a shriek-filled love fest, with the guy's role being to applaud politely and fetch refreshments.

Almost 20 years after his heydays as a television star (he was General Hospital's coolest doc, Noah Drake) and top-40 rocker, the satanically ageless Mr. Springfield was obviously excited to be back in the spotlight. Maybe a little too excited.

Through much of his 90-minute set, he was a manic whirl of energy, as if hurrying to work through the encyclopedia of rock-star moves. Who knows how many times he tossed his guitar in to the air, but he often failed to catch it. Then there were his problems with the microphone cord, which often became tangled. Add to that the times when he dramatically grabbed for the mike while cruising by and missed. Oh well, he gets an A for enthusiasm.

Not that it mattered. Saturday's show felt like the rock-concert equivalent of a Star Trek convention. Between songs - during songs, for that matter - the singer was passed all sorts of tributes from the audience. Mostly these came in the form of red roses - which he would take and thrash against his guitar, causing a poof of petals, before throwing the denuded stems back into the crowd.

Though he has a new album out (Karma), he played only one tune from it, much to the delight of the audience. It had come to hear its old favorites, especially "Jessie's Girl," which he saved as his set closer.

Oh, if only the same could be said for the middle act, Berlin. Sounding just as trinkety and dated as you would expect a new-wave synth band to sound, the band droned along, enlivened by the droll between-song comments from lead singer Terri Nunn. But then she had to go and spoil it all by saying something such as, "Here's a new song from our upcoming album."

"New song," "upcoming album - ack - the four most dreaded words in the nostalgia rock market. No such problems from opener John Waite, who knew what he was there for and opened with his biggest hit.