ENTERING stage right to a mighty welcome this head turning Wexfordman immediately steals every inch of attention span the fans can give him.
The true entertainer breaks down barriers between the artist and audience, and really gives of him/herself in a way, that makes him seem naked. And for Turner, anything less wouldn't be a show.
Clambering across the tables, giving little shimmies and clattering a smashing ashtray to the ground to screams of adoration, as Turner does, are merely gimmicks. It is his self deprecatory wit and silly stories one about his feet on a seat in a train and the old lady who was having none of them and his style of organised abandon which are proof of this.
Breaking the ashtray "for a bit of percussion" might indeed prove a necessity tonight, stuck as Pearce is with an inflexible drum machine, but the backing of his string quartet and Leo Kenny on guitar and violin provide a highly unusual musical support.
`Manana in Manhattan gets possibly the best response, with calls for its repetition being met with the retort that "We can only make so much of a show of ourselves."
And `Everyone loves a virgin in their past is another highlight, a very funny revision of a long past love of Pearce's who he used to kiss for six hour stretches.
Pearce throws in some covers, including Nirvana's `Come as you are' delivered with a melodic sensitivity which Kurt Cobain never found, the Beach Boys' `God only knows' a spot of reverence for the equally talented Brian Wilson, and a truly weird version of `Dirty Old Town' for the grand finale.
After the fashion of a certain Ms Smith, Pearce has had to travel to foreign shores, in the form of New York City, in order to secure the success he needs. And it is equally unfair that he has remained such a closely bound secret over here.
"I've big love for all of youse," he finishes. That's good, Pearce, as considering the reception you got here tonight, it's no less than the crowd deserves.
