Good genes prevailed at Avalon last Friday night, as Rufus Wainwright, the progeny of folk legends Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle, entertained a worshipful crowd with songs from his lush 2001 album Poses (DreamWorks). Sporting a tight black T-shirt and a jacket he said he "stole from my mother," the long-locked Wainwright created a loose, folk-revue atmosphere on stage, thanks to his talented backing band, which included his sister Martha, singer/songwriter Teddy (son of Richard and Linda) Thompson, bassist Jeff Hill, and eels drummer Butch.
The talents of these musicians ensured that the show’s highlights came when the entire band joined together to replicate the antique orchestral beauty of Wainwright’s music. "Grey Gardens" was magnificently augmented by a wall of ethereal, Beach Boys–like harmonies, as was "Rebel Prince." "Evil Angel" started off as a foreboding clarinet-and-upright-string-bass rocker and ended in a squall of rock-opera guitar that came across as baroque Guns N’ Roses. "Beauty Mark" and "Foolish Love," from Wainwright’s self-titled debut, conjured up a ragtime saloon and smoky jazz, respectively. And his cover of the Beatles’ "Across the Universe," somewhat shaky with just Wainwright, kicked into joyous high gear when the band entered.
Indeed, the talkative Canadian (who called himself a "middle-aged lesbian" at one point) cautioned that this show should be considered a "rehearsal," since it was the opening night of his first headlining North American tour. At times he was right about that: while his voice was rich and velvety, Wainwright occasionally strained to hit the upper part of his range. His cover of Leonard Cohen’s "Hallelujah" — "The first time I’ve ever performed this," he said — seemed to be an afterthought, despite coming in the middle of the show, and the band sometimes gave the impression that they were fumbling to find their chemistry and bearing. However, the magic moments outnumbered the rougher ones, and Wainwright’s final encore — a solo piano, nursery-rhyme-esque "Little Sister" and a delicate French duet with Martha — put an elegant end to the solid beginning of his trek.
Thompson, a talented singer/songwriter in his own right, opened the show and deserved a better fate than the numerous catcalls of "Who are you?" bestowed upon him from the audience. Sporting a voice markedly like Wainwright’s (though less nasal), his brief solo set of jangle-riffed and country-soaked songs, although marred by his slightly off-putting attitude, made a pleasant appetizer for the main show.
