Daughtry Bores Fans at Arena Concert

According to Madison.com, Daughtry's first arena tour flopped hard! The fact that tickets are being cut in half for his tour (some being sold for as little as $13.99 and still not selling out) and his new album flopping at the record stores (and soundscan), I'd say Daughtry's 15 mins are just about up. Read on...

Fifty-two years ago, when Jerry Lee Lewis pounded out that dizzy rock 'n' roll classic "Great Balls of Fire," could he have even imagined a time when actual balls of fire would thunder forth onstage to a flaccid version of the genre he helped define?

Probably not. He probably couldn't have imagined "American Idol," either, or the relentless stream of carefully packaged singers it keeps shooting out.

Yet here we are. Saturday night at the Alliant Energy Center, massively successful "American Idol" finalist Chris Daughtry staged a spectacle with his band Daughtry that copped rock's power without much heart.

Yes, there were great balls of fire, torrents of sparkly firecrackers and booming canon shots. Daughtry (the man) can posture all he wants, hold his arms up to the heavens in actorly distress and flex his sculpted and tattooed biceps, but he never called forth anything like the feral shiver of Lewis yelping "I want to tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

But let's forget Jerry Lee Lewis for now. He's such a distant cousin to today's hard rock that it's a bit of an unfair comparison. Even in the context of the hard rock genre that Daughtry places itself in, however, Saturday night's show fell short. There were many times during the show when the band came close. Lead guitarist Josh Steely would pluck out a nasty opening hook, and I'd think "Alright! Rock 'n' roll!" But then Daughtry (the man) would neuter it with a plodding melody and brooding lyrics.

So he's a sap and doesn't do anything Creed or Nickelback hasn't already done. This should come as no surprise to anyone who's heard the band's self-titled 2006 debut or this year's follow-up, "Leave This Town." But what's most disappointing is that Daughtry can't muster the emotions of the songs any better live.

Even the fans, who filled about two-thirds of the Coliseum, looked bored during songs like "One Last Chance" and busied themselves with cell phones and texting. In general, though, the crowd gave the band an enthusiastic reception, sang along to the radio hits and pummeled the ground like a stampede of animals for the encore. It's amazing what being on television will do for a band.

Like openers Cavo and Theory of a Deadman, Chris Daughtry is a gracious presence on stage and seemed genuinely grateful to be performing. His energy never lagged during the 90-minute show, and whatever he lacks in songwriting and emoting, he makes up partially with his fine, arena-ready voice -- all the more impressive on Saturday evening since he said he'd spent the day before sick in his hotel room.

Mid-show the rest of the band left the stage, and he sat on a stool for a faithful acoustic cover of Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight." ("Put that song on the top of the list of songs I wish I wrote," he said afterward.)

Daughtry can belt out a ballad, but his voice sounded best in arena rock mode. Likewise, the band seemed most comfortable and at ease battering out larger-than-life rock like the grand finale "There and Back Again." In between Daughtry's megaphone-distorted vocals and bassist JP Paul's slapping solos, "There and Back Again" was the only time during the show when the music seemed worthy of fire balls.