No Quitter

There are shows you miss and think nothing of it. Then there are shows you might have missed but are glad you didn’t because missing them would be a crying shame despite not knowing what you missed. Does that make sense?

I might still be a little punchy after last night’s “might have missed but am glad I didn’t”.

I have yet to get my head around Victoria being more than a stopover for artists whose stars are on the ascent, on their way down, or on their way out. Even after seeing the Sarahs Brightman and McLachlan, after Sting and Sheryl Crow and a handful of Leppard shows, I am still surprised when a big name performer comes to town. So when word got out that Shania Twain was bringing her show here, getting tickets was, as Ter once put it, a no-brainer.

Bear in mind that country music and I don’t like each other very much. I must remind myself that country music today is not the country music of yore—thanks in good part to Shania herself. When she met producer “Mutt” Lange, she changed the course of country tuneage and made it palatable for rock/pop snobs like me. She’s bright, she’s upbeat, she’s funny—and she rocks.

She is inspiring, though, for more than her stellar status in the music biz. In short, small town Canadian girl loses both parents to tragedy, keeps her siblings together and alive through smarts and sheer strength of will, somehow meets world famous record producer, falls in love, marries him, and proceeds to make history. The Cinderella story should end there, but after she becomes a global phenomenon, she learns that the love of her life is cheating with her best friend. Talk about your world shattering. She lost her voice, her marriage, became a single mom, quit performing, quit singing, and seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be down for the count.

But she came back. She fell in love again, she found her voice again, she rebuilt her confidence and took it to Vegas. It took her ten years, but she did it, and from there, she embarked on a world tour and man, oh man, she is back with a vengeance. It’s like she was never gone.

So. Last night. There are no really bad seats at the Leppard Dome (aka the Save On Foods Memorial Arena); the people surrounding you are more often the challenge. Fortunately, Shania doesn’t attract the same hardcore individuals that are drawn to the Leps or Bon Jovi. Her crowd consists of cowboys and angels: guys in jeans and plaid shirts, women in jeans, bling and boots, and their daughters dressed in sweet summer dresses and cowboy boots. Far less frightening than the mother/daughter pairs we saw at the Leppard gig in April, where the mothers were dressed like the daughters and there was nothing sweet about any of them.

We hang out on the concourse while the opening act is on, watching people and gradually losing our hearing to the increasing hubbub in the lineups for beer and popcorn. There are so many pretty young girls in the cute outfit started by Taylor Swift that they all run together, but there’s the odd pop! of a red lamé jacket or a rhinestone collar that can only be worn to a rock concert.

Ter and I have aisle seats, me next to a burly dude who proves to be as mild-mannered as most giants so I’m able to focus on the show rather than spend it dodging the flailing limbs of an inebriated neighbour. Just before the lights go down, I lean over to Ter and whisper, “I hope she plays ‘I Ain’t No Quitter’.” A long shot, I admit, because that track was written for her greatest hits album and wasn’t a big single. Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock and Roll” starts up, the lights dip, and the crowd sings along. Full dark for a few heartbeats—then the stage explodes with light and sound worthy of, well, hey, a Las Vegas show, and rising up from the fog through a hole in the floor is a tiny power-packed figure with big blond hair and the warbling pipes of a chipmunk.

Yup, my hearing went early.

Her voice, like the rest of her, is really quite strong, and as pure as that mandatory country twang will allow; however, I rarely go to see someone whose catalogue I don’t know, so I was familiar enough with the music to know every song as it was played. She tipped Nashville on its ear with her sassy female take on the conventional country lyric—check out “Honey I’m Home” if you want an example—and while she kicks butt with empowering attitude, she is clearly a romantic who’s in love with being in love. “From This Moment” is as sappy as it gets, yet when she sings it, you feel the commitment that true love deserves (and which, for her, was ultimately betrayed). I was resigned to hearing it because it was such a huge hit for her, but the lighting that accompanied it onstage set her in the center of a laser diamond, so multi-faceted and flawless that I was awestruck for the duration.

Actually, there were enough lasers to have corrected the vision in every member of the audience—one of the best light shows I’ve ever seen. Mostly red and white, punctuated with bursts of flame so hot I felt them on my face (“I’m Gonna Getcha Good” was pyrotechnically brilliant!), and backed by video clips that filled the gaps during a costume change. She may be little and fiery, but she is also an elegant example of beauty blending with inner resolve. She proves that a woman can change the world without compromising her femininity. Now, that is inspiring.

The fifth song into her set? One she said she has never played live, but wanted to sing for us now:

“I Ain’t No Quitter”.

She certainly ain’t.