At Tom Jones’ packed show at the Warfield on Saturday night, it took all of three songs for the first pair of women’s underwear to be thrown on stage, proving once again that the 68 year-old Welshman was still irresistible to the ladies.
Dressed in all black with his shirt not-so-subtly unbuttoned down to his hairy chest, Jones strutted to the stage, cheered on by a female-dominated crowd who seemed not to mind that the graying, wizened singer now looks like a smarmy cross between Rip Torn and Kenny Rogers. Unlike other aging vocalists who tour long after their voices have lost their power (listen up, Bono), Jones’ booming, bluesy vocals rang as powerful and timeless as ever. Singing with an 11-piece band with a brass section, Jones wriggled, punched and even kicked through his 90-minute, 25-song set, the first half of which was heavily weighted with tracks from Jones new album, 24 Hours. But what has made Jones so good for so long is his attentiveness to what the crowd wants and the crowd wanted the oldies.
Jones would finish strong, powering through classics like “Sexbomb,” “Green, Green Grass of Home,” “Kiss” and a half-dozen others. Then he walked off the stage as he had so many times before: to a showering of bras and underpants, still the undisputed champion of shag-carpeted machismo.