The recording artist known as Pink (her real name is Alecia Moore) hired a band to open her sold-out show at the Sprint Center on Tuesday night. That band was the Kin, a brotherly indie-pop band with New York-via-Australia roots.
By TIMOTHY FINN
The Kansas City Star
The Kin is worthy of another look and listen, but in a different venue and under different circumstances. Opening for Pink these days is a thankless task. Not only does she fill two hours with a heavy dose of hits, she also puts on a high-octane show that is relentlessly excessive -- an explosion of dance, gymnastics, aerial feats, videos and other visual, treats that made everything that precede it seem tame and forgettable.
Backed by a five-piece band and three backup singers and accompanied by a small legion of buff and beautiful dancers/acrobats, Pink spent most of the show in constant motion, showing off her own dance, gymnastic and acrobatic skills, and not always with her feet planted on stage.
She employed a variety of apparatuses that took her airborne and swung her all over the arena.
During Sober, she and her dancers climbed all over an orb-shaped cage -- inside and outside -- as it was hoisted high above the stage. And during her wild encore, via wires attached to a belt around her waist, she was vaulted into the stratosphere of the arena from where she nose-dived back toward the crowd beneath her.
The stage was assembled with an array of video screens that broadcast vibrant live images and videos, plus a few trap doors that were used to add tricks and gimmicks to the choreography and to give Pink a way to escape the stage for one of her nearly dozen wardrobe changes. There was fog and there were flashpots and lights -- an orgy of visual stimulants.
There was music, too: 18 songs, some of which werent exactly family-oriented, such as Walk of Shame, U + Ur Hand and Slut Like You.
She censored herself during one, using the term F-bomb instead of the expletive, acknowledging the younger children in the crowd and explaining that, as a mother herself, she felt obligated to clean up her act. It was the only time all night she held anything back.
The crowd was on fire throughout the show, even during the acoustic and midtempo numbers, like Great Escape, Who Knew and her cover of Chris Isaaks Wicked Game.
She ended on a high note, literally, swinging and flying like a super-heroine around the arena and over a sea of fans, many of whom tracking her on cell phone cameras as she sang So What, one of her many signature jackhammer pop-anthems.
Eventually, she landed back on her feet, center stage, among the rest of her entourage, waving good night to a cheering crowd that needed to catch its breath as much as she did.