‘Weird Al’ Yankovic at the Palladium review — master of musical spoofs performs on his own terms

Lolloping onstage after a blast of “Carmina Burana”, “Weird Al” Yankovic kicked off the London leg of his returning “Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour” with a disclaimer. “Let me be clear,” he deadpanned. “We’re gonna play a bunch of deeply unpopular songs.” A sold-out Palladium roared in delight.

The comedy singer-songwriter conquered the airwaves in the 1980s with little more than aggressive eye contact and an accordion, creating songs that spoofed current hits or the styles of other artists, spinning parodies such as “Eat It” (from Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”) and “Amish Paradise” (from Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise”). Five Grammys and six platinum albums later, the 63-year-old brims with the friendly, manic energy of a precocious tween. As the spotlight revealed salt and pepper in those luscious curls, it became clear that after nearly five decades of pastiche, Weird Al was putting his original material in the spotlight — popularity be damned.

The American’s warm yet unsettling satire — flickering between goofy and deranged — has always targeted the notion of “normality”, rather than particular artists. This was particularly clear in a show stripped of mainstream hits, to an audience packed with millennials who appreciate what Weird Al stands for, rather than just his catalogue.

Yankovic’s Vanity Tour showcased the things dearest to his heart: obscure, unbalanced, and tragic musical characters, brought to life by the talents of his band. The infectious glee of these bespectacled boomers — delighting in their source material, their virtuosity and their bond with the crowd — carried the pairing of incel-ish themes with exuberant music. To the untrained eye, Jon “Bermuda” Schwartz might seem more at home behind an insurance desk than a drum kit; Rage Against the Machine pastiche “I’ll Sue Ya”, complete with power slides from guitarist Jim West, swiftly dismissed such prejudice.

Al rejoices in his deviance, and it’s hard not to follow, although the line between enthusiastic and fearful compliance blurred from time to time. “Hey, I just noticed my material is really violent,” he quipped between “Good Old Days” (reminiscences of a child psychopath) and “The Night Santa Went Crazy” (St Nick snaps and shoots up his workplace).

His fan base appreciates a power ballad just as much as an 11-minute account of being “tied to a wall and force-fed nothing but sauerkraut until I was 26 and a half years old”. The real “weirdness”, and charm, of the act lies in its unrelenting sincerity: “You Don’t Love Me Anymore” had flashes of a genuinely touching break-up song, albeit addressed to a piranha-mad partner. “You slammed my face down on the barbecue grill,” he warbled, “now my scars are all healing, but my heart never will.”

Yankovic rounded up his hour of musical dress-up by giving the people what they came for: a medley that veered from a lounge version of “White & Nerdy” to fine-tuned beatboxing gibberish. Staring down the crowd, brows furrowed after his final shamanic grunt, “Weird Al”, on his own terms, offered a glimpse of the steel behind the silliness that’s kept him in business longer than his pop star peers.

★★★☆☆

weirdal.com