A packed house, a collection of players in matching black tracksuits playing brass, keys, guitars, drums and the image of a pizza slice reading ‘Wong’s’ plastered onto the on-screen projector. “You ready to hear some diminished chords or what?” Wongs cue to a measured set of jazz, funk and taking the mick out of what jazz and funk diehards are all about. Wong's ability to embrace the musos of the venue whilst simultaneously captivating the rest of the crowd with comedic anecdotes was a well balanced mix which hit the right notes in this sold out evening. And the playing wasn't bad either.
Wong's way of interacting is a typical American type, some kind of Jim Carrey and Jerry Seinfeld hybrid with his mannerisms and facial expressions. Jerry did the talking and The Mask came out for a plethora of guitar gurns. He's evidently a well rehearsed and acute individual, though his IQ felt like it went over the heads of the Brudenell at points. A particularly exhaustive interlude explaining the entire structure of Dial Up with Wong barely taking a breathe was met with mainly a light rocking back chuckle from segments of the audience and bemusement others.
This was perhaps highlighting one of the themes Wong instilled into his audience - the differences between musos and regular Joe's and the reactions in these two schools of thought. In fact breaking down divides was kind of the theme of the night in itself.
Age was picked up on too - a poignant and genuinely amusing tale of an “unnamed American city” sparked a sales pitch with Wong turning to his frequently used voice modifier. Alternating between a super deep tone to his own to explain a conversation of a man criticising Wong as a performer who spent half his show selling, before explaining his father was a salesman and he was “selling you a product not 50% but 100% of the time”
The musical side to the set could near do no wrong in all honesty. Songs such as 'America Online' were pretty awe inspiring with the complexity and of course catchiness behind the players performing. Every single person on stage was on that funky wave. The on-screen projection portraying an early 2000s Windows Logo, some kinda Tony Hawks type game and a first person tunnel turning thing which I can't really put in words better than that. Very cool.
Other highlights included the self-named Cory Wong itself - a laser beam like solo from the man himself threw out fits of verbal delight amongst the eager jazz musicians at the front. “B5” to “G5!” screamed by the front man to the rest of the band as he riffed off the energy of the evening.
Naturally given the enjoyment had by everyone at this smooth jazz affair Wong and the gang climbed back on stage for an encore. Probably one of the most bizarre encores you'll ever witness. After winding down a song with a lady named Phoebe, Wong cried out “I've no more chops guys!” Whilst proceeding to chop the same note over and over. This continued for say, ten minutes. What made this funny and then some was Wong's turning to his voice morpher once more with wildly extreme low/high pitches. Think Barry White and Elmo on helium both screaming “I've run out of chops guys!”.
This increasingly amusing and a tad tiresome moment accumulated to Wong literally karate chopping blocks, as well as a host of kicks. The very last action his high chop. A high kick to a block held by his behemoth drummer. Held aloft 6' high, that man chopped and capped off a superb, rather bizarre evening.
Reviewer - Tobias James
on - 27/2/19
His typical American interaction is no doubt a mixture of both Jim Carrey and Jerry Seinfeld!
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