POP MUSIC REVIEW Front woman, singer-songwriter (and fashion designer) Gwen Stefani sells out the Bowl in support of her debut solo album "Love. Angel. Music. Baby."
But the sight of Gwen Stefani, the biggest female rock star of the last decade, decked out in one Friday at the Hollywood Bowl spoke volumes about what compelled her to step away from her role as the focal point of the multimillion-selling alternative rock band No Doubt and take her shot at solo stardom.
That gown, looking stunning on her as she cooed the ultra-romantic techno-pop hit "Cool," is the type of pure Hollywood fashion she never would have dared show up in onstage during the years she helped propel the rock-punk-ska band from Anaheim garage parties to international success.
Now, having established her credibility not only as a singer in a male-dominated genre but also as a songwriter and full creative partner in that group, she's reached the point where it's safe to indulge herself and embrace her inner girly girl, the one who likes to play dress-up.
In her skyrocketing second career as a fashion designer, Stefani often talks about her "fantasy closet," a place, whether real or metaphorical, where she can throw out all the rules, try on anything and everything within her grasp, then decide what works and what doesn't.
That's the best way to look at her debut solo album, "Love. Angel. Music. Baby," and the fledgling tour that brought her to the sold-out Bowl on Friday. The album has sold more than 3 million copies since its release late last year, making it one of 2005's biggest hits. It's less the "real" Stefani -- compared to the transparently autobiographical songs she's written with No Doubt -- than a platform for experimentation, a way to don new musical guises and, seemingly above all, have as much fun as possible.
In "Luxurious," for instance, she and No Doubt bassist Tony Kanal came up with a throwback slow-jam ballad in which she assumes the role of purring, bling-minded sex kitten. It may have been a laugh-riot to write and record, but its expression of vacuous materialism bumps up so close to so much contemporary R&B and hip-hop that any line separating reality from parody vanished.
Nonetheless, the album has clearly connected with listeners in a big way, having thrown off several hit singles, including the first song to rack up 1 million legal downloads, the cheerleader-ish "Hollaback Girl."
This hit is b-a-n-a-n-a-s. At the Bowl she turned it into a full-fledged high school football game cheer-along -- she outfitted as the snazziest-looking drill-team leader in history while her four dancing "Harajuku Girls" appeared in cheerleader tops and skirts.
She was flanked during most of her 75-minute set, for which Black Eyed Peas opened, by those Asian women, meant to represent Japan's Harajuku fashion-entertainment district that she finds so inspiring. Metaphorically, they personify her muses.
There are moments in "Love. Angel. Music. Baby" where the woman who has convincingly examined her all-too-human selfishness and pettiness, who has laid out her conflicted feelings about love and family versus career, comes off like just another vacuous pop diva of the Mariah-Christina-Britney mold. Her down-to-earth honesty Friday helped her prevent that image from prevailing for long. Her versatile five-piece band captured the shifting textures expertly, from the Prince-like pop-funk of her OutKast-laced Andre 3000 collaboration "Bubble Pop Electric" to the New Order-like dance floor thrust of "What You Waiting For?"
The latter spells out a 36-year-old woman's struggle against the tick-tock-ticking of her biological clock, and it's one of several lyrics on the album that bring a depth to the various '80s pop homages she's concocted that make them anything but vapid.
"Cool" sweetly salutes former lovers who have moved on with their lives and remained friends. "Danger Zone" was recorded before news surfaced a year ago that her hubby, Gavin Rossdale, was the father of a teenage daughter from a long-ago relationship. But the song's plea to a romantic partner for honesty and disclosure taps the kind of trouble any couple faces if they keep secrets, no matter how much they may be in love.
In those instances, "Love. Angel. Music. Baby" extends the connection she has forged with fans of No Doubt. Despite her beauty and success, she's still Everygirl. To the many girls and young women who adore her -- the Bowl crowd was easily 4 or 5 to 1 female vs male -- is that Stefani embodies the ideal modern woman.
She's a rock star -- not just a pretty face being exploited by men, but a singer-songwriter who's proven her ability to hold her own with the boys in the band and in the executive conference room. It doesn't hurt that she also happens to have an unerring fashion sense, nor that she overcame a greatly publicized broken heart (No Doubt's breakthrough "Tragic Kingdom" album largely chronicled her breakup with Kanal) and went on to find and marry the man of her dreams.
And she makes no bones about wanting to turn her pipedreams into reality (acting, designing, collaborating with new musical partners) before embarking on her biggest life goal: having kids and being a mom.
We won't know the full legacy of this solo jaunt until we see what impact it has on her return to No Doubt, which is scheduled to start working on an album next year. The question is whether this clears her mind of nagging whims, allowing her to focus more fully on more substantive music, or whether it pulls her permanently in the direction of more vanity projects. That's the real danger zone.
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