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This was because of his glittering pop career. I was a fan. He would perform the album in its entirety. This was an album which had sold a million copies on its release in , and contained the most popular songs of this blue-eyed pop-soul singer. I was convinced it would be an amazing show — largely because of how entertaining the recent spate of concerts by acts from the s have been. Young with his soulful voice and beautiful harmonies seemed like a safe bet.
Tonight would be different. We trooped into the theatre and took our seats. The lights dimmed, the crowd roared, the band came on stage. We were off. Paul Young looked in good shape — older than I remember from thirty years ago. His unfortunate mauve jacket was was disregarded. I was here for the songs. The show began.
I looked in alarm at my sister. Was there a sound problem? I waited another thirty seconds. The horrific truth dawned on me, Paul Young has lost his voice, He sounded hoarse, rasping and tired. No longer able to reach the high notes. Or even stay in tune. It was excruciating. The duo of backup singers tried to cover the cracks, but to no avail. His voice was shot. He seemed happy out, belting tuneless versions of classic tunes to the subdued audience.
It was alarming. He croaked and spluttered his way through the album, oblivious to the confusion of the spectators. In truth not all of the audience was upset.