No close-up shots appeared on the big screens. The first time she spoke to the audience – about five songs in, before doing a solo number with the help of a back-up singer – her speech seemed strained. That famous voice, the essence of Roxette’s unique sound, was mostly there, yet she faltered on some notes and her timing was uneven. Then her bandmates led her onto the stage on Sunday night and helped her into a chair, where she sat, looking frail, barely moving while singing. She released solo music in 20, and in 2009 started performing once again with Gessle as Roxette. After surgery and intensive treatment she had to relearn reading and writing. In 2002, Fredriksson was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour. Two decades on, I expected an enjoyable walk down memory lane with much less dancing – and yes, the entire audience was seated.īut it wasn’t just that everyone there, both on and off the stage, had aged. That concert, at a packed Ellis Park, was a brilliant blast of slick Swedish pop, driven by the spirited performances of Marie Fredriksson and Per Gessle. I first saw Roxette live in the early Nineties at the height of their fame. I can’t assess the event overall, though I will explain why I couldn’t remain inside Johannesburg’s cavernous, echoey Dome till the end. So, a disclaimer: this is a reaction, not a review.
This weekend, I walked out of a Roxette concert.
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