Yeah, OK, Melissa Etheridge is a gay icon.  And an environmental awareness icon.  And a breast cancer survivor icon.  And a rock chick icon.  And a songwriting icon.

Jesus Christ, Melissa, leave room for somebody else to have a cause, would ya?

But more than all of these things, she’s a brilliant live performer.  I had never known that till last night, and I suspect I’m not the only one who discovered it at the Anderson Center in Binghamton.  Well, OK, Vestal; but she said Binghamton.  “Are you ready to rock, Vestal?!?” doesn’t have the same ring…

See, what’s unique about going to a concert in the Bing is this: we get so damn few of them; we’re a lot more willing to go see a show from an artist that we maybe kinda liked just a little bit in college because their single was stuck in our broken CD player.  So Bing concerts are filled with the unconverted—not the hooting, hollering, crying, shrieking, (maybe even) tripping concert-goers you’d find in the “big city”.

It took me a while to realize this; beforehand, I just thought that we were all f*cking lame.  And I’m not convinced that some touring performers don’t feel that way when they show up here.

BTW, I heard one set of concert-goers last night scream at another set of concert-goers to sit down because they weren’t as excited about the show and they didn’t think that anybody else should be either.

On another BTW, I pretty much suck at listening to new music; what do you want from me?  I work in radio.  And if a lyric hasn’t been drilled into my head every four and a half hours before being used as the underscore for a Toyota commercial and the theme song for an Amy Adams romantic comedy, I have a difficult time sitting through its live performance.

But that’s what separates a really really really great live performer from, well, Britney Spears.  Because while we all want to have sex with Britney (even the gays; it’s OK, you can admit it), we pretty much just tolerate her singing on the off chance that she may lose her sh*t on stage and rip her clothes off for no particular reason.

This is not true for Melissa Etheridge.  (OK, maybe it’s true for some of the lesbians reading.)  I, for one, am not sure quite why I liked her live show so much last night.  More than 70% of the show was tunes I didn’t know.  But it didn’t matter.  It might have been her voice—which was in perfect form and didn’t sound any different from what you’d hear in a studio recording.  It might have been her laid-back vibe: you felt like she could have been playing a bar as small as Frankie’s or a space as big as the Broome Arena, she’d be having a ball either way.  I actually think, more than anything else, it was her chemistry with the audience.

She’s an engaging storyteller, and every lyric seemed vitally important when delivered live.  Message songs like “I Run for Life” (her breast cancer anthem) and “I Need to Wake Up” (her Oscar-winning environmental anthem) which before seemed to me like “charity jingles” when they first came out, suddenly just worked.  It’s impossible to deny that’s she’s genuine when you see her in the flesh.

I can’t tell you for sure if I’ll buy Melissa’s next album—I’ve never been blown away by her CDs; but I can tell you I won’t miss her next concert.  Unless Britney Spears is in town.  And having a breakdown.  Half-naked.

Now that’s entertainment.

PS: We interviewed Melissa on the Star Morning Show.  She was just as cool to speak to by phone as she was live in concert.

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