CONNECTICUT born Michael Bolton (or Bolotin, as his birth certificate has it) must have praised the Lord the moment he decided to quit messing around with heavy rock, a genre he was never particularly successful in. His voice - an above average soul instrument with the requisite power and expression of a belter, but unfortunately utterly devoid of subtlety - seems tailor made for the anthemic blue collar, blue eyed soul ballads that have become his trademark over the past 10 years.
His St Patrick's night concert proved several other points: for a man of 43, he has surely got the worst haircut in pop music (sorry, but I just had to mention it); he can work an audience into a collective, frenzied orgasm; he could make a living as a cod opera singer should his balladry career ever fall on hard times; and he gives good value for money.
Michael Bolton is not a critic's choice. How Can We Be Lovers, Love Is A Wonderful Thing, Soul Provider and all the rest might be ersatz, formulaic soul to me, but to his fans the people who really count - they're the proverbial business.