POP MUSIC REVIEWS : Nelson Is Positive--to a Fault

Watching Nelson’s show at the Pacific Amphitheatre Thursday night, you wanted to reach for a knob and turn up the contrast.

The band’s twin front men, Matthew and Gunnar Nelson, are, in fact, identical twins, but that’s not what posed the contrast problem. It was that Nelson’s show was mainly a homogenous affair, given almost exclusively to music and messages that were upbeat, gleaming and nice--and therefore lacking emotional depth.

Gunnar, who did most of the talking, gave a speech at the end commiting Nelson to a career founded on “a colorful presentation and a positive way of looking at life.”

For now, that may be fine for Nelson’s audience, which at the Pacific consisted of 3,000 or so fans--at least 80% of them young females. Many are no doubt following in the footsteps of their mothers and grandmothers, who back in the ‘50s and early ‘60s fell for another wholesomely likable rocking Nelson--Gunnar and Matthew’s late father, Rick. But even today’s teen-pop fans live in a world that isn’t all positive, and it’s a good bet that deeply felt depictions of some of life’s raw deals would capture them just as well as songs accentuating the hopeful and the good.

There aren’t many raw edges to Nelson’s hit debut album, “After the Rain.” On stage, the six-member band played it true-to-the-record, presenting the lush vocal harmonies, cushiony keyboards and soaring guitars that make up Nelson’s cotton-candy version of pop-metal.

The thing about cotton candy is that, insubstantial as it is, it’s fun to eat once in a while. Staying true to its “colorful presentation” pledge, Nelson did, at least, keep the show enjoyably snappy and energetic (that was true of the 12 songs the band played, but not of the three instrumental solo set-pieces for guitar, keyboards and drums that were used to stretch a single album’s worth of material, plus two other Nelson originals, into a 100-minute show).

Nelson’s album is an easily forgettable concatenation of stock lyrics and musical borrowings from such artistically questionable but commercially proven sources as Bon Jovi, Boston and latter-day Bad Company.

Nelson’s coltish, eager-to-please performing approach at least allowed it to put across its songs with likable vigor. Not surprisingly, considering their show-biz bloodlines, the twins were stage naturals who moved with assurance and established an easy rapport with their audience. Flattery got them everywhere; Nelson was solicitous and thankful almost to a fault. The fans responded with a steady flow of screams and long-stemmed roses.

Joey Cathcart played the comic sidekick to the two tall, flaxen-maned Nelsons. The curly-headed little rhythm guitarist skittered and tumbled around the stage at full speed, like a spaniel cavorting between a couple of Afghan hounds.

The show dispensed with some of the most annoying pop-metal stage maneuvers. With all that abundantly flowing platinum hair to shake, Matthew and Gunnar refrained from doing the standard hard-rocker’s rhythmic head toss. There also was no obligatory baring of chests, no contrived chorus-line maneuvers, and, blessedly, no cussing to be cool. These were the boys next door, true grandsons of Ozzie and Harriet--even if Gunnar, kiddingly dubbed “the evil twin” by his brother, did say something about wanting to “do the nasty” for post-concert entertainment.

The playing was solid but void of surprises. The main lead guitarist, Brett Garsed, took fluent, concise solos that stuck to the soaring or flurrying patterns that have become pop-metal cliches. Both twins were competent singers--Gunnar showing good presence and heft, while Matthew strained at times. Backing harmonies were studio perfect, which meant they may have benefited from some electronic processing.

“Love and Affection,” Nelson’s No. 1 hit, was a catchy bit of pop, and the soaring reach of “After the Rain” offered a hint of emotional substance (instead of pausing to let the number linger for a moment, Nelson goofed by branching right into a nine-minute drum solo). An as-yet unissued acoustic ballad, “Love Me Today,” was a step in the right direction. Written more than five years ago, following Rick Nelson’s death in a plane crash, the song dealt with the sorrow of loss and proclaimed with urgency the need to express love before it is too late.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to have a positive message, but Nelson can’t be doctrinaire about that if it is to grow. An exploration of darker feelings can make more hopeful songs feel earned. There has been a painful side to the Nelsons’ family life, and they will have to learn to draw upon it if they are going to make believable rock.

Tyketto, Nelson’s DGC label mates, opened with a bland set of pop metal that included much cliched hair-shaking and cussing-to-be-cool. Danny Vaughn’s chesty singing was so overblown that he sounded like Gary Puckett reborn in tights. Actually, covers of “Young Girl” or “Lady Willpower” would have been a big improvement over Tyketto’s nondescript raunch-and-romance originals.