For the last night of his first tour, Rufus Wainwright cupped the New York audience in the palm of his hand and charmed the very wits out of them. Here's Rufus introducing a song: "This next one is about a forbidden affair in the West. Doesn't have to be about boys or girls. Could be anyone: boys, girls, cowboys . . . cows," he said, getting a laugh. "Or about Bill Clinton and what's-his-name? Oh! I mean what's-her-name, that drag queen, Monica Lewinsky." The audience dissolved in laughter for the fortieth time. Wainwright is a remarkable performer for many reasons: his distinctive croon, his clarion piano playing and his torchy pop songs that draw more from vaudeville and Tin Pan Alley than rock & roll. But his greatest onstage asset is his ability to comfort. Rufus spoke to the audience -- in sharp, lust-filled, self-deprecating stories and asides -- as if he was dishing to his hairdresser. Like a gay, singing Woody Allen, he's a young man so at ease with himself, his sexuality and his songs, he's impossible not to like.

Backed by an orchestral-sounding rhythm section of bass, drums and guitar, Rufus visited the high points of his self-titled DreamWorks debut. Led by his bell-like grand piano, the band wove through "Danny Boy," "Beauty Mark" (with drummer Kevin Hupp on the woodblocks) and "Imaginary Love" (with guitarist Dave Rolf and sister Martha Wainwright joining in on three-part harmony). On quieter songs, bassist Hal Cragen switched to upright bass for a deep, woody sound. Rufus, after playing solo guitar and singing a new song called "These Four Walls," explained, "that duh-nuh-nuh-nuh part is supposed to be a 900-piece orchestra. I'll settle." Mostly, though, he didn't have to settle, as his band fleshed out his floral melodies and slurry singing warmly and without resorting to routine rock styling.

Throughout the show, Rufus had hinted that family members in attendance might perform later. Inevitably, when the encore rolled around, he was ready to show off his famous pedigree. His father, singer-songwriter Loudon Wainwright III, came out looking sheepish and proud, and ventured, "I'm speechless. What a wonderful show." His mother, singer-songwriter Kate McGarrigle, sat down at the piano, still clutching her pocketbook, and led her ex-husband and children through an impromptu sound check. Martha and Rufus stood with their father around a microphone and launched into a melancholy waltz from this fall's The McGarrigle Hour called "What'll I Do?" The four singers traded verses, and then, with America tearing out its pre-millennial heart over narrower and narrower visions of family values, and Washington sharpening up its steak knives in preparation for a Presidential feast, the Wainwright clan made their case for familial forgiveness and understanding. The divorced couple, their daughter andtheir happily gay son all joined together to sing, "When I'm alone / With only dreams of you / That won't come true / What'll I do?"

The audience erupted in applause.

RODD MCLEOD
(December 18, 1998)