Jeff Lynne’s ELO dispenses a magic that’s not so strange at all

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Jeff Lynne's ELO at the Fonda Theatre (Photo by Laura Grover)
Jeff Lynne's ELO at the Fonda Theatre (Photo by Laura Grover)

“Here’s a jolly one you can all jump up and down and sing to.”

That was Jeff Lynne introducing the 1977-vintage “Sweet Talking Woman” on Tuesday at the Fonda Theatre. It was halfway through the show billed to Jeff Lynne’s ELO. And that was about as wordy, and deep, as he got in his minimalist, though genial, patter.

But then, he didn’t need to say more. The same intro would have served fine for any number of the songs — “Evil Woman,” “Showdown,” “Turn to Stone,” “Living Thing,” even the more somber, wistful “Can’t Get You It Out of My Head,” though for the latter, his “Another old one — you know this one maybe” applied to many as well, sans the “maybe.” Every old song had the fans in raptures, singing and jumping and swaying and smiling, broadly. Even the four from his new “Alone In the Universe” album didn’t see a dip in audience energy.

elo2-lauragrover - 1Heck, that introduction could almost suffice for a full review of the show. Except … the very brief run of gigs — one in London and one in New York ahead of this closing the “tour” marking the new album’s release — is the first time Lynne has performed full concerts in thirtysomething years, with or without the ELO handle. (A planned tour behind the 2000 ELO album “Zoom” was canceled.)

That very factor of time away brought new perspectives, for audience and artist alike. It’s not like ELO music ever went away, but recent years have seen a resurgence of passionate interest, not least the period-perfect use of several songs in the “American Hustle” soundtrack. Absence made the hearts grow fonder, and attachments stronger, it seems.

People were buzzing throughout the room. “It was like I was 11 again,” said one, while others echoed that with whatever age they were when they first heard this music. It didn’t hurt, buzz-wise, that the balcony VIP section sported rock royalty. Many of the fans turned and cheered when Ringo Starr took his seat, and alongside him were, among others, Lynne’s fellow Traveling Wilbury Tom Petty, as well as Joe Walsh and Jackson Browne, not to mention Eric Idle.

The performance lived up to it. It’s rather remarkable how well this music has stood up through the years, unlike so much of ELO’s AOR radio contemporaries. (We’re looking at you, Foreigner/Kansas/Styx/et al.) It’s also remarkable that while Lynne has always worn his influences on his sleeve, he’s at the same time managed to craft a distinctive, instantly recognizable sound all his own. The influences, rather than seeming derivative, form a sturdy foundation: Beatles, most obviously, and Beach Boys, with good doses of Chuck Berry (the homage “Rock ’n’ Roll Is King” as well as the encore of the early ELO Ludwig van Berry mash-up of “Roll Over Beethoven”) and doo-wop-era romanticism.

In this incarnation, Lynne and original keyboardist Richard Tandy are joined by 10 pairs of hired, expertly skilled, hands, including two background vocalists and, of course, a two-cellos-one-violin string trio. As for the name, well, partly it’s to differentiate (legally, as well as factually) from the ELO Part II/The Orchestra ensembles that were around for a while, involving some veterans of the original group. It’s Lynne’s show more than even during the band’s commercial heyday of yore, but the sound this ensemble made was ELO in every note — always meticulous, and often magnificent. At the end of set-climaxing “Mr. Blue Sky,” the five-voice Swingles Singers-ish bop motet yielding to a harmonically complex chorale was breathtaking.

And there was a thread that came through strongly in the show’s course that might have been a bit of a revelation to those who first and foremost think of ELO as an arty pop band (that started, of course, as a poppy art band): The spiky string counterpoints in “Evil Woman,” the just-chunky-enough funk in “Showdown,” the silky pleading of “Telephone Line” — just as strong as the other influences is a rich vein of classic soul. You know Gamble & Huff’s Sounds of Philadelphia? This is Jeff Lynne’s Sounds of Birmingham.

Now back to that buzz. How much was about what this represented to fans, as to opposed to what it was? We did a scientific survey before the show asking attendees if they would have been any less excited had it just been billed as Jeff Lynne, without the ELO in the name. The answers ranged from “Maybe just a little” to “Not at all! Jeff Lynne is ELO!” Well, okay, we only surveyed two fans, so not really scientific. But accurate.

That ELO billing narrowed the scope (no Move-era songs, no Wilburys or related material), but it gave it a focus and a purpose, allowing the — pardon the expression — strange magic of both the music and the memories to manifest. And we have scientific proof that it all led directly to jumping up and down and singing along. Jolly good.