CHAKA KHAN LIVE: REVIEW
- Bernard Zuel
- Apr 24
- 2 min read
CHAKA KHAN
Sydney Opera House, April 22
SOME 50 YEARS since Yvette Stevens became Chaka Khan and then singer of Chicago funk band Rufus, she is neither shy (at her age, why should she be?), nor retiring (though at her age that might be expected). Instead, she is a force of nature. A small force.
Khan is tiny, seemingly built almost entirely from sequins, boots and hair. And voice. So much voice. On a tour marking this 50th anniversary, its range as wide as its power is strong. Which is handy because a room full of up-from-the-first-note, know-all-the-words, ready-to-dance fans figured they’d got it right just being here only to find they faced another visiting sound guy excited to be in the Opera House but getting the room wrong. Very wrong.
How wrong? The opening number, This Is My Night, buried lead, three backing vocals and guitar beneath drums and percussion that bludgeoned, and Khan was immediately asked to work hard. Really hard. Like rip that throat, pound that note, scrape those barnacles off hard. It wouldn’t be the last time either on a night when the dominating sound, feeling like the lead instrument at times, was a gunshot snare.
While I Feel For You hit the mark, with its percussion breakdown making the most of the sonic flaws, and the floating melody of a near-devotional I Remember U downscaled the mountain she had to climb, the unbalanced racket elsewhere made that voice sound like it was straining just to break through. Like Khan was fighting against rather than playing with the band during the looser, almost louche groove of Tell Me Something Good, or as if the scatting in I’m A Woman was a plea, not her running free.
In Whatcha Gonna Do, a mood more cruise than strut, the thudding drums dragged that easy rhythm down and squeezed that voice up through the gaps, while even I’m Every Woman, a song almost bulletproof in its ability to carry the room with pleasure and affirmation, only just overcame those sonic hurdles - a victory that could at least in part be put down to our goodwill.
It's tempting to think that maybe this, as much as careful management of a 72-year-old, explains why Khan ceded centre stage to those backing vocalists for much of Until You Come Back For Me, a mere four songs into the show, and later left the stage altogether for a three-song bracket as each vocalist took the lead. (We can be grateful there was not the extended band soloing other shows on this tour have had, including a regular drum-off between kit and percussion that might have broken us.)
Still, given the night closed with Ain’t Nobody, not the best song in her repertoire but a perfect mix of slink, simplicity, groove and glee to send ‘em home happy, there’s a sound engineer who might think he just about got away with this.
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A version of this review was originally published in The Sydney Morning Herald
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