Photos by Debra Rothenberg
Some people hear the name “Passenger” and expect a band, and at one time it was. Michael David “Mike” Rosenberg, the former lead singer and major songwriter of said band decided to keep the name when he went solo, and right off the bat offered a tongue-in-cheek refund to anyone who thought they were going to hear more than one man and a guitar. No one left.
A word about Brooklyn Steel: Buy the upgrades if you can. The cavernous ground floor works for early-arrivals who get the first two rows and those over 6″2′, but persons of on-time arrival and average height may hear, but they won’t see. Upstairs affords a distant view blocked by only four or five rows of standees, and the bar is convenient for seeking consolation. VIP wings upstairs, stage left and right, do offer sightlines. There may be a half-dozen stools or chairs for 1800 people, so wear comfortable shoes. On the plus side, the ceiling fan is the largest I have ever seen, and worth the trip.
Many of Passenger’s songs bear a strong similarity to the ones just sung, so it could have been a very long evening in the giant SRO-crowded steel-walled boxcar which is Brooklyn Steel. Fortunately, Passenger brought along not only his guitar, but a powerful mic installed in his shoe which served as a booming bass drum, a particularly interesting but non-invasive light show and a keen sense of humor and showmanship. Always engaging the audience, Passenger encouraged singalongs and fist-bumping (again, first row). Introducing “Life’s for the Living,” he encouraged people to sing along “even if you don’t know the words, sing something.”
The show actually started twice, since someone in the front row collapsed right at the beginning of the show (see paragraph: “A word about Brooklyn Steel”–it was undoubtedly someone who’d been waiting). Mike stopped playing and said, “Let’s do this over.” He cleared the stage until the person was attended to (I couldn’t see, again I refer you to “A word about…”), and came back, re-introduced himself and began anew: Take Two.
Referring repeatedly to the audience as “Brooklyn” (“So, Brooklyn, this is a treat.” “Brooklyn, I can’t believe I’m here.”) Rosenberg continually engaged his audience by encouraging singing, clapping, dancing, and laughing with him as he laughed at himself, which he did often. Whether it’s real or just a very convincing act, it’s refreshing to see an artist who works at his job, yet isn’t so hung up on perfection that he forgets he’s one or two bad shows away from busking on the street again. Rosenberg even went into a lengthy discourse about how some acts get tired of singing their one big hit, but he’s forever happy to sing “Let Her Go” because of the opportunity that multi-national platinum hit provided him.
At the end, the audience didn’t want Passenger to go, and clapped loud and long until he returned to stage. It was worth it. His encore was Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark,” delivered slowly and very movingly, a far departure from the Boss’ version. His last song “Holes” about holes in our hearts, pockets, and lives, proved to be the perfect ending to a lovely night of song: “We’ve got holes, but we carry on.”
Indeed we do.
—Suzanne Cadgène
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