Review: Night of Hall and Oates requests, blue-eyed soul nostalgia

At Dwyer’s Pub on U.S. 41 just before the Hall and Oates concert Wednesday night, two young businessmen leaving a gathering of friends, reluctantly admitted when pressed that they had tickets for that night’s show.

Later, in the audience at the Barbara B. Mann, a big, brawny gentleman standing well over 6 feet tall shot to his feet as the pop duo took the stage, screaming his lungs out and thrusting into the air his custom license plate: HL N OATES.

Those two vignettes sum up this duo, which had huge chart hits in the 1970s and ¤’80s — era- defining songs like “Maneater” and “Kiss on My List.” And it’s that dynamic that helped shoot Hall and Oates to the top of both pop and R&B charts and gave them a career that’s lasted for more than three decades.

On the one hand: former pop heartthrobs with catchy, frothy songs.

On the other, the two Philadelphia boys who were the epitome of “blue-eyed soul,” talented musicians creating a new kind of soul music, with elements of pop, New Wave and rock.

Their current tour, though it comes on the heels of a relatively recent release, the well-received 2004 album “Our Kind of Soul,” isn’t looking to break any new ground. Daryl Hall and John Oates clearly know their fans, and this show is designed to please them with the hits they came to hear.

After their first number, in fact — naturally enough, their biggest hit “Maneater” — Hall brings the lights up to look out into the audience and take requests.

If that sounds odd, it should — outside of intimate little venues and far lesser-known bands, audiences don’t usually expect personal interaction with big-name acts.

But the Hall and Oates follow ers obviously know the band’s proclivities, since many showed up with giant posterboards with song titles written on them, which Hall intermittently spots and immediately cues the band to launch into.

“We’ve got a playlist,” he says, “but we’re not paying any attention to that.”

And later: “Whoever has the biggest sign wins.”

The format yields chart-toppers like “Rich Girl,” “She’s Gone” and You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,” and obscure songs like Hall’s “Cab Driver,” from his 1996 solo album “Can’t Stop Dreaming.”

Or like the old Billy Paul hit, “Me and Mrs. Jones,” which Hall claims is their most requested song, though the two never recorded it in a studio.

Lead singer Hall, recently afflicted with Lyme disease and resuming this tour after a brief hiatus for treatment, is one of those singers blessed with a distinctive, instantly recognizable, seemingly effortless voice. Like Michael McDonald or Paul Rodgers, rock vocalists whose sound defines their style, Hall’s vocals are powerful and soulful, with an impressive range.

He doesn’t seem to have lost any of his strength or depth, though here and there he’s flirting with sacrificing a bit of range in the higher register. But kudos to Daryl Hall — whereas some singers, like Elton John, shy away from or “cheat down” the high notes they can no longer reach, Hall gamely gives it a go, working as best he can in falsetto heavy “One on One” to make it sound the way it did on the 1982 record.

Hall, in fact, is so identified with the sound of Hall and Oates that poor John Oates is relegated to the thankless role of sidekick, like Andrew Ridgeley in that other smash ¤’80s pop duo, Wham! (also known as “that other guy”).

But Oates, who first started working with Daryl Hall in the late ¤’60s, holds up his end with harmonies and guitar (though backup guitarist Jeff Catania does most of the heavy lifting). On the few snippets of songs where his lead vocals can be heard, Oates evinces a nice, solid sound — but when Hall chimes in, it’s clear who’s the powerhouse.

The key element in their backup band is longtime sax player Charlie DeChant, whose showboat playing gives the music its trademark soul sound.

Hall has a guitar strapped on, which he noodles at, and occasionally he ventures behind a keyboard and proves he can play, but for the most part he and Oates stay center stage and work the rock-star image.

Hall’s trademark blond mane is a bit more leonine these days, and his scruffy beard gives him a Kris Kristofferson-meets-Grizzly Adams vibe. Oates has lost the ¤’stache but has kept his dark, curly mop. But, overall, both men have aged surprisingly well, still youthful-looking, trim and handsome.

And what maybe sells the show most of all, what makes it a big chunk of fun despite the tired old songs, is Hall and Oates’s sheer enjoyment of what they’re doing.

These two clearly love being rock stars, and they’re still working it to the hilt: Oates tossing guitar picks into the audience, Hall grinning ear to ear throughout the show and multiple encores, riffing with the audience and writhing behind the mike with little kabuki dance moves.

The audience eats it up, and by show’s end, they are dancing in the aisles in a big, joyous, unself- conscious free-for-all. And whether you’re a cynic, a closet fan or a fanatic, there’s no denying the loyal-to-their-roots duo knows how to put on a show.