Kelis live at the Olympia

The received music industry wisdom that Dublin crowds are a soft touch for touring artists got another boost here tonight, as funk/R’n’B queen Kelis came rolling into town in support of her Tasty album. Hotpress arrived shortly after nine, fearing that I had missed the opening minutes of the show.
I needn’t have fretted; the tour’s resident DJ is still spinning the vinyl when I finally get inside, and there’s plenty of time for a visit to the bar before Kelis herself arrives onstage. Only, she doesn’t. Instead, her backing band shuffle on just after 9.30 and promptly embark on a ten-minute funk jam, punctuated only by the rotund turntablist’s intermittent cries of, “Dublin, make some noiiiiiiise!”
Kelis herself finally strides on at roughly 9.45, much to the crowd’s relief. A few tunes in, her late-late show has been all but forgotten, as the singer struts around the joint like she owns it, films the audience with her personal handy-cam, and looks endearingly embarrassed as the crowd sing an off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ in celebration of her 21st.
Her stage presence is not so much tinged with erotica as it is a full-blown release of sexual energy; she pouts and preens, bumps and grinds, and throws dominatrix shapes like Girlie Show-era Madonna. Behind her, the band match the air of laissez faire house-party hedonism every step of the way, mixing funk rhythms with full-on slamming techno grooves.
To be honest, there’s much to find fault with here, the ridiculously late start and the absurdly short running time (just over 50 minutes) for starters. Indeed, the gig received a comprehensive pasting in the Sunday Tribune a few days later.
Still, when your hips are shaking and your foot is tapping, it is extremely difficult to express those reservations with any serious conviction. And by the time the outrageously funky ‘Caught Out There’ and ‘Milkshake’ (which the singer performs clad only in a bra and a near-fatally short yellow skirt) roll around, all such grievances are, for this reviewer, reduced to the level of petty nit-picking.
Kelis: as LL Cool J memorably put it, that girl is something like a phenomenon.