CityLife

Peter Andre

Peter Andre
Apollo
March 11, 2010

Shorn of bouncy-castle Katie and appearing on a stage rather than on the telly, it’s hard to believe that this really is flesh-and-blood Peter Andre, the singer whose life and loves have been distilled through reality show hell for what seems like forever.

But it is him. He grins all the time like Peter. He pouts occasionally like Peter. He thrusts and jerks and smoulders like Peter doing an impersonation of a runtish hybrid of Justin Timberlake and Michael Jackson. He wears a very tight vest over bulging muscles like Peter. Ergo, it is Peter.

And a few thousand females, aged from 14 to 40, verify it with their constant screams and occasional lewd requests. It’s as though the Bay City Rollers have been melted down and have morphed into a shinier and better-singing single entity without the spots and tartan.

No doubt about it, this is insania, and not just because of the hysteria, the ever-so-derivative R’N’B and the cheesy banter, but because – in spite of all that – it’s impossible not to enjoy Peter’s show, and like him even more in the process.

How can you not love someone who namechecks the great bard himself – yes, Vinnie Jones – about his eight ‘emotional’ months, but still refuses to slag off his ex?

Yep, Katie Price, aka Jordan, is the elephant in the room – or should that be the Chav in the lav? – all night. She still looms large, in a double-D kinda way, though the K word is never mentioned.

But the lad is too busy ripping through his repertoire of funky ditties and sentimental ballads, backed by a tight four-piece band and five ace dancers, to cry over spilled venom.

Wearing a white suit one minute, a red one the next and then the ubiquitous black leather, he’s dance perfect in Nobody Knows and Outta Control and lithe during the Michael Jackson tribute medley.

But he meets his match during the girl on stage moment, when a girl called Zoe, plucked from the audience, apparently, more than matches his sauciness during Go Back. The poor lad almost looks frightened.

The home-video footage of Peter, looking all misty-eyed while playing with his kids, sees the cheeseometer go off the scale in Unconditional – a definite low point – but then he redeems himself with an encore double of Killer and, inevitably, Mysterious Girl.

I still would never buy a Peter Andre record – which is probably a guy thing – but I’ve got to concur with the ladies that he’s a decent performer who, after all he’s been through (poor so-and-so), deserves to be cut some slack.

Tweet