Live Review: True Colors Tour

"THIS SONG IS dedicated to the daughters of the revolution," pealed Cyndi Lauper during the encore of the True Colors Tour, which arrived at D.A.R. Constitution Hall on Saturday night.

She ripped into a husky a capella rendition of her bittersweet single "Same Old Story," in honor of the three women who have come closest to sitting behind the desk of the Oval Office: Eleanor Roosevelt, Geraldine Ferraro and Hillary Clinton: "Friends tell me you've been around / Big fish in a big ol' town / Gobbled up all in one fell swoop."

That gesture, paired with the lyrical implications of power and struggle, provided a sobering capstone to a four-hour celebration. Although the glass ceiling was not the evening's primary concern, it was referenced often enough to sharpen the focus.

The second year of Lauper's festival brought music, humor and a clear anti-discriminatory agenda to an affectionate, multigenerational crowd. The cross-section of demographics in attendance was asked — vociferously at times — to demand more equitable voting rights in their communities. This meant pleas for more accessible registration and more digestible paperwork. Lauper also trumpeted the Human Rights Campaign, a gay-rights lobbying group that receives money for each ticket sold on the tour.

Not that the concert was entirely about message.

Carson Kressley, the sassy fashion consultant of the now defunct "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," served comfortably (if a little too cheekily) as host. His asides were catty if conspicuously declawed, and he preserved a tone that teetered between kitschy and controversial. He often sat on the edge of the stage like a blonde, bronzed Judy Garland and went through at least five costume changes.

Indie folk-punk duo Tegan and Sara were collegial and fresh-voiced, and eager to share stories about past experiences in Washington. A performance at Black Cat was particularly ripe with anecdotes about generous hipsters plying the (at the time) underage songstresses with the currency of choice: Pabst Blue Ribbon. Their wavering vocals, flocked with infectious hooks, were unvarnished and tender.

The evening's high note (make that notes) came, as Kressley put it, "from Russia with love," in the bluesy form of Regina Spektor (pictured above). With mouse-brown tendrils springing at every rippling piano progression, Spektor unfurled her poetic and hard-nosed frustrations. Her signature wounded chirp crawled out of her throat in shimmery trills. During the heavier songs, like "Apres Moi," her voice was abetted by redoubtable skill at the keyboard, to say nothing of the acoustics of the concert hall. Ballads ("Better") were achingly beautiful, and bouncier jaunts ("Hotel Song") percolated the festivities. Spektor's high-wattage beam didn't hurt, either.

It was 1989 all over again when The B-52's launched into their warped surf-rock ode "Love Shack," which brought the crowd to their feet and sent hips and arms twisting concentrically. The closest the trio (and their excellent backup band) came to sounding harmonic in the traditional sense was during "Roam," which summoned the sugar rush of spontaneous optimism in pursuits like exploration and, on a more whimsical level, escapism. They closed their set with "Rock Lobster," which both stopped the show and imbued it with a welcome jolt of nonsense that had heretofore been absent.

Then came Lauper, strutting out in a black vest and opaque stockings. Her set was a powerhouse. She vaulted into the set and rarely looked back. Songs from her latest album, "Bring Ya to the Brink," were sprinkled with previous chart chuggers. For a few of her standards, Lauper slackened the tempo and strummed an acoustic guitar, which rounded out the performance and sounded eerily reminiscent of Joni Mitchell and Neil Young.

Lauper repeatedly roamed into the crowd mid-song. She stood on the chairs, punched fists into the air and coaxed the audience to add their voices to her own. On the topic of that voice: wow. Sounding (but hardly looking) every bit her age of 54, Lauper's instrument has reached what the opera community would call its zenith. Rich, resonant and full, Lauper's clarion vocals on Saturday were more layered and vibrant than anything she has recorded. And the tinny warble required of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" was deeper, but not lower. The heaven-scraping decibel levels are as sharp as they were when the puckish chanteuse began her career; now they come wrapped in the confident vibrato of a modern-day Ella Fitzgerald.

For an encore, Lauper invited all the performers onstage to sing the Sly and the Family Stone hit "Everyday People," while a host of multicolored balloons was released into the crowd. The balloons were message enough, but as they volleyed about the concert hall through the song, the word "equality" appeared across the backdrop in round, magenta lettering. The ensemble burst into a valedictory lap of Lauper's, the show's and the LGBT community's anthem. "This used to be my song, but you guys have made it your own and I'm honored."

As "True Colors" wound down, Lauper beamed into the footlights and offered what felt like the verbal equivalent of a group hug. "Be empowered," she said. "Be safe and be strong."

Written by Express contributor Christopher Correa
Photos courtesy cyndilauper.com and reginaspektor.com

» Read our recent interview with Cyndi Lauper.