There are boy bands, pop stars, bad boys and icons -- and then there is Robbie Williams. The one-time member of Britain's answer to the New Kids on the Block -- Take That -- has spent the five years since his messy departure from the Manchester outfit, defining his own category, an amalgamation of all categories into the creation of a new breed of British celebrity.

He's withstood all the clichés: the wild-child boy band past, a bitter record company contract battle, the rock & roll rebellion fostered by one-time friends (and now not-so-nice enemies) Oasis, a drug and alcohol problem leading to a fat Elvis period, several high-profile pop star romances and a magnificent under-dog career re-triumph. And all of it has been chronicled religiously by Britain's unrelenting tabloids. All of which explains why when Williams performed the fourth of five sold-out nights at London's Docklands Arena -- on Bonfire Night, a British holiday in honor of Guy Fawkes, the revolutionary executed in public for trying to blow up Parliament -- there was much more to expect than just any old show.

Although there were no 'N Sync-style mega sets, Ricky Martin-worthy exotic dancers, Britney Spears-like costume changes, the several thousand strong crowd -- composed of men, women, boys and girls -- treated Williams with the fervor you'd expect any of those other artists to receive on their home turf. From the moment he slid on stage to "Let Me Entertain You," the bleachers were a-rockin' to his scruffy tenor, which he belted out while he emulating Gene Kelly under an umbrella shielding a raining wall of fire and pyrotechnics. Like Charlie Chaplin with wings, he swept across the stage in blue jeans and a sleeveless blue sports top, dedicating songs to "anyone with decent cleavage" and always challenging the crowd for more applause.

Williams spent the show humping and hopping on speakers, grinding his rear end at the crowd, kicking a soccer ball while singing and gallivanting across stage. But it was via his between-song banter that the twenty-six-year-old's cheeky personality came through the most. During "Supreme," which samples Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive," Williams noted mid refrain: "This bit of the song I paid twenty-five percent for. I hope you enjoy it." When a girl up front gave a piercing scream after he announced "Better Man," Williams asked her, "Did you just come then?" He started World Party 's "She's the One," a song which won him a Brit Award (the U.K. version of the Grammy), stating, "This song was written by a nasty little man, but he half can't write a decent tune." He even managed to take on Eminem, dedicating a song to "all the kids who came with their parents" by singing, "You don't wanna fuck with Robbie, 'cause Robbie will fucking kill you."

Entertaining as his spoiled stage manner can be, it is William's raspy rock & roll style pop vocals that most set him apart as the best young singer in Britain today. Considering he came from a rather nasally past as a boy band scrub, he has more than made the transition -- in Britain anyway -- to rank alongside tenured performers like Tom Jones or Frank Sinatra, whose classic "My Way" he sneakily covered rather perfectly. As Williams more than demonstrated tonight, he is one of the few performers who can carry a high-wattage show on his own without gratuitous gimmicks. Even performing his latest British single, "Kids," a duet with Australian pop tart Kylie Minogue, using the crowd along with Minogue's piped in vocals, it was all about Robbie and one hell of a party. "I'm an honorary Sean Connery, born '74/There's only one of me," he sang. And indeed, he is one of a kind.

JOLIE LASH
(November 8, 2000)