'Valentine's on the Harbour', with Freddie Jackson (pictured), was held at the Coal Wharf, Morgan's Harbour, Port Royal, on Sunday, February 15. - Winston Sill/Freelance Photographer

As Marcia Griffiths wrapped up her performance, regal in red with the wind tugging at her clothing, she teased the large audience at Sunday's 'Valentine's on the Harbour'.

"Another song before I leave the stage for the sitting audience," Griffiths said, emphasising the 'sitting', to laughter. For despite Griffiths' entreaties for those at the outdoor venue near Morgan's Harbour hotel, Port Royal to stand, only her delivery of Dawn Penn's You Don't Love Me (No No No) got a significant number of persons on their feet. And only two persons, one of them reggae industry stalwart Copeland Forbes, joined Griffiths onstage to do the Electric Slide.

Except for Gregory Isaacs, for whom the audience surged upwards en masse from his slow skank onstage to Rumours, through to his trademark nasal intonation of 'more' on his encore, 'Valentine's on the Harbour' was mostly a sit-down affair. Not that it was not enjoyable, as the consistent applause rose above the level of polite acknowledgement. But apart from Karen Smith, who beamed and said 'a genuine encore!' when she returned to the stage after closing a lovers' medley with Why Do Fools Fall in Love, the audience's remaining seated was also a sign that there wasn't a peak in the excitement.

This held even for closing and headline performer, Freddie Jackson, standing tall and slender in silver, most of the standing for him coming from the ladies who flocked the stage as he handed out roses before doing That's All I'll Ever Ask. There was laughter when a playful Freddie, who had declared himself a nasty 51 year-old man, exclaimed "Jesus!" when the ladies proved very determined to get their long-stemmed flowers.

Wonderful delivery

But although his delivery, stagecraft and slick moves, combined with nimble darts across the stage were excellent and the band (including a trio of harmony singers in little black dresses) was good, there were simply too many banter-filled pauses between the already-long songs. In the end, it sapped the energy of the crowd, a number of persons leaving half-hour into Jackson's performance. Still, the majority remained for Me and Mrs Jones, a second set of persons leaving just before the closing Rock Me Tonight.

After a late start, the audience was impatient with openers Airplai despite the quality of their delivery, including on Turn Your Lights Down Low.

Robert Minott, inappropriately dressed casually for what was clearly a 'dress to the nines' affair, moved further into impropriety when he asked the ladies to scream for him. When the response was not satisfactory, Minott said 'oonu soun' hungry. Oonu no eat?'.

Karen Smith lifted the evening, starting with How Glad I Am, injecting some Fever and offering All of Me, bowing low to her 'reggae legend' husband Jackie Jackson on bass at the end of her first stint onstage. However, AJ Brown, who followed, was also affected by overlong chatter between songs, slight huskiness in the upper registers of his voice smoothed out by the time he hit You Raise Me Up. And after a calm start with Take It Slow, it was Time To Say Goodbye, which gave a lift, even though it had far less than its usual show-stopping effect. His originals went over well and he closed strong with You Captured Me.

Creditable choreography

There was creditable choreography at the beginning of One Third's set. A trio of back-up singers came on first and one member of the male trio joined them before they moved to their positions and the party started with Stevie Wonder's Master Blaster, dropping Jammin' in the mix. One member was a decent host, as they went through their original Take My Breath Away and rocked the house with Love Bump in a rub-a-dub medley.

But after Memories and the Four Tops' Reach Out, I'll Be There, there was a feeling that they were wearing out their welcome. This was reinforced when they cut I Wanna Know What Love Is short to close, to appreciative but not overwhelming applause, to make way for Marcia Griffiths.

Colin Anthony, whose consistent quips about getting 'a roses' for his lady from Freddie Jackson's stock cracked up the audience, was a competent emcee, with Mutabaruka dropping love songs in the few breaks at a mainly sit-down affair that had its strong moments, but which, as a package, fell way short of outstanding.