Harry Connick, Jr.

The early days of 2010 were kind to Santa Barbara; a classic California confluence of high clouds, low tides, big swells and spectacular sunsets. And then the storms came marchin’ in. So when the seasonal skies opened up and poured down, soggy Santa Barbarans in search of a little Southern comfort food for the soul showed up en masse at the Arlington Tuesday night. And they didn’t leave hungry.

As soon as he strode on stage, clad in black suit and tie, Harry Connick Jr. set the tone for a night of Pre-Lenten festivity, launching into a rousing Bill Bailey peppered with strains of When the Saints Come Marchin’ In. And the timing couldn’t have been more fortuitous, with both Mardi Gras and –more importantly- his beloved Saints’ first trip to the Super Bowl just weeks away, Harry was primed to party, “At first I was humbled…now I’m ready to boast!” He followed up with a deep, soulful version of Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight, one of several off his latest release, Your Songs - a collaboration with legendary producer and music mogul, Clive Davis, eschewing the staid standards and adding his own arrangements and flair to what could be deemed “the new classics.” This would set the ebb and flow tone of the evening as Connick alternated between turns at the keyboard and strutting the stage, presenting a musical gumbo of bluesy melancholy ballads, stripped-down, smoky, intimate jazz-hall licks, and raucous Bourbon Street party tunes (with an extra helping of banter).

When not singing, shucking or jiving he gave generous stage time to showcasing the musicians in his orchestra, namely stand-up bassist Neal Caine, Saxophonist Jerry Weldon and Preservation Hall trombonist Lucien Barbarin (who would feature prominently in the show’s mid-point ambience and improvisational antics). And what an orchestra; a full complement of lush string arrangements washed over the somber ballads like Nat Cole’s Mona Lisa and Don McLean’s And I Love You So, while the big band horns gave requisite punch to the upbeat numbers like Besame Mucho.

A consummate showman, Connick is also uncannily astute to the temperament of his audience, accepting beads and answering shout-outs. Noting the somewhat sedate state of the crowd early on, he opined, “Maybe we need some left over U2 pyrotechnics to wake y’all up.” He also lamented his inability to score Super Bowl tickets (although QB Drew Brees will probably hook him up), and rhapsodized on the mesmerizing qualities of J-Lo’s derriere. More bayou than Broadway, between Sinatra suave and Buble coy, lies Connick charm – when Harry croons, the women swoon - but choose your interaction wisely; One woman in the front row, dubbed “Lil’ Kim” (no, not that Lil’ Kim) whose lively gyrations caught Connick’s eye, was invited up and granted extensive stage time to show everyone her talent. “Where you from, the South? New Jersey!? They don’t move like that in new Jersey!” Later, a particularly sultry and playful version of St James Infirmary Blues, turned in to a classic piece of Vaudeville improve, as four women near the front decided on a sojourn to the bar… mid-song. Trombonist Barbarin and Connick quickly followed suit, stopping the song cold, confronting the women, placing a drink order for the trombonist, and then continuing the tune without missing a beat, even incorporating the interlopers into the lyrics as “the four tramps who need to bring my trombonist a beer” - almost laughing themselves off the piano bench in the process.

Connick also dared to work without a net, premiering for the first time (with note cards at the ready) his version of Steve Allen’s (Yes, that Steve Allen) Impossible. The evening ended as Connick and his entire band brought the house down and the audience to its feet with Professor Longhair’s classic Go to the Mardi Gras, sending legions of newly anointed Saints fans into the night. Who Dat?!