Friday, April 18, 2003 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

SHOW REVIEW: Wayne Newton's voice not what it used to be

Mr. Las Vegas diverts attention from music with his unmatched charm

Wayne Newton performs at the Stardust Saturdays through Thursdays. REVIEW-JOURNAL FILE PHOTO

What's more important to you? The fact that Wayne Newton can't sing anymore, or the fact that you might see him kiss a dog?

That's right. When Mr. Las Vegas is working the room as only he can -- smooching every female face and shaking every male hand -- not even a black labrador escapes his scrutiny.

The lucky canine attended a recent Stardust show as a seeing-eye dog "puppy in training," according to the banner on its back. After going out of his way to solicit a big slurpy lick from the pooch, the Midnight Idol challenged all yet-unsmooched ladies, "So you wanna kiss me now?"

Yes they did.

And that's what brings us back to the central issue. If you want to hear someone who can still carry a tune, it's best to stick with Clint Holmes or Tom Jones or even Jack Jones.

A Wayne Newton show is mostly an extended living room chat with a unique character -- the living symbol of Vegas -- and a chance to experience a genuine piece of the city's history that's all but extinct.

For the second song, Elvis Presley's "Suspicious Minds," the band vamped the "caught in a trap ..." chorus 14 times, by my count, while Newton gave almost everyone in the room the chance to inspect the wrinkle-free 61-year-old visage, the sparkling teeth and the jet-black coif.

I don't want to be dismissive of the voice issue, nor overstate it. But at this point, we must assume it's no longer a transient or occasional thing.

It's hard to remember in great detail Newton's show that launched his long-term residency at the Stardust in January 2000. I just remember him sounding respectable, better than he had before he shipped out for Branson, Mo., in the mid-1990s.

By the end of 2000, however, I started getting the type of e-mail I continue to field every few months: "While he is a wonderful showman, do you know if he had laryngitis or is the voice gone? People were embarrassed for him ... "

On the second night of his current stint, which continues through May 26, Newton didn't sound hoarse or parched, as he has in the past. Just very thin and seriously strained, with no real power or range.

Instead, Mr. Las Vegas rivals the Strip's magicians with his ability to divert attention away from the music and toward his folksy charm.

The show runs a full two hours and Newton does 15 songs, not counting the musical impressions by second banana Jeff Brandt, but including a "Spanish Eyes" instrumental and the times when "The Chief" wields a banjo or fiddle to offer chunks of "Baby Face" or "Orange Blossom Special."

By contrast, Celine Dion sings 20 full songs in about 95 minutes in her new Las Vegas show. Maybe the Midnight Idol just needs a $2 million humidifier.

But "Wayniacs" are a forgiving lot. At this point, the show is a ritual so familiar that some elderly fan-clubbers even brought underwear to throw at Brandt during his Tom Jones impression.

There's always a big opening. I'm sorry to report the fabled spaceship landing is now missing in action, but adequately replaced by a "magic ring" that drops down from on high to make the legend materialize.

Conductor Greg Macaluso's rhythm section impressively ascends from beneath the stage, while five female string players and a seven-man horn section "float in" from the wings a few songs later, in time for "Fly Me to the Moon."

"The bus has arrived!" Newton declares.

After the first song he will declare for the first time, "This crowd is hot!" It will not be the last.

He will make jokes about his American Indian heritage.

He will direct "a Captain" to send champagne to newlyweds and/or couples celebrating 50th or 60th anniversaries. (However, there is no longer cocktail service inside the showroom and I didn't notice any of these bottles actually being delivered).

He will ask all veterans to rise and be applauded as a giant flag drops down across the stage.

He will do "Danke Schoen" but, for whatever strange reason, will steadfastly avoid his other hits, "Daddy Don't You Walk So Fast" or "Red Roses for a Blue Lady."

He will say that he doesn't "often get a crowd like you are tonight" and doesn't often do "MacArthur Park," but then delivers it complete with rolling fog, bursts of fire and a climactic curtain of rain.

These you are guaranteed and just maybe, you'll get a little bit more. After the big "MacArthur Park" instrumental break, Newton chimed in with one line, "There will be another song for me," with a clarity that briefly sounded like the old days, before the voice again melted in the rain.

But you'd be a fool not to assume the words are true, as long as one classic Vegas icon is still standing.