Pet Shop Boys Entertainment Art The Chicago Theater Chicago, Ill. October 27, 2006

A modern lounge chair at stage left and a solitary synth at stage right sandwiched a neon-framed backdrop featuring a bird’s eye view of a human brain split down the center. The lights were dimmed and the strains of Bernard Herrmann’s Psycho score filled the room. Two figures in identical white, hooded jumpsuits appeared from the wings and tore the parallel panels of the backdrop to reveal cut-out images of Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, the Pet Shop Boys. Two pairs of PSB doppelgangers then emerged and were followed by our hosts for the evening. All told, there were two versions of Tennant (vocals and the occasional guitar), who sported matching versions of his dapper top hat and tails and two versions of Lowe (synthesizer and mirrored sunglasses), dressed in white ball caps and neon yellow hoodies. The clones were on hand to act as dancers and back-up singers and were joined by several more singer/dancers throughout the evening.

Drawing from a songbook that has been twenty years in the making, the Pet Shop Boys performed a fine sampling of their witty (and often satirical) synth pop classics, as well as selected tunes from this year’s Fundamental.

“Psychological” and “Left to My Own Devices” were early standouts, inspiring the dancers to body rock in time to the strobe lights. “I’m with Stupid” was augmented with barely disguised video projections of George W. Bush and Tony Blair. A theatrical take on “Suburbia” owed a debt to West Side Story, the dancers employing shark-like street moves to punctuate the song’s implied violence. “Minimal” brought neon nighttime, while the businessman-baiting “Shopping” poked fun at empty consumerism. “Rent,” “Opportunities” and a rousing take on Willie Nelson’s “You Were Always on My Mind” all showcased the brilliant stage design. The latter song employed giant cut-outs of Tennant’s and Lowe’s heads with dancers perched on top like human thought bubbles. Another cover, U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name,” was glitzed up considerably—a gold-topped, postmodern gay anthem played with great humor. A serpentine “West End Girls” simply brought down the house.

A classy affair thanks in no small part to everyone involved, (the designers, dancers, stage hands and the Boys, themselves) the performance complemented the splendor of the Chicago Theater quite nicely, indeed.

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