Most pop singers from the ’60s and ’70s who are fortunate enough to still be touring resort to what I call vocal cheats. That’s when they get to a point in an old hit that has a particularly high note they can’t hit — a note that especially resonates with the baby-boomer audience — so they either drop it an octave or turn it over to the background singers.

There’s nothing really shameful about these vocal cheats — it would be worse, for instance, if Daryl Hall tried to hit that big release note in “She’s Gone” and failed miserably. Or if Roger Daltrey attempted to render the big scream in “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and sounded like a frog.

I tell you all this because I saw Boz Scaggs last night at Ruth Eckerd Hall and he didn’t resort to any vocal cheats. He’s 65 years old. Very impressive. When, on “Lido Shuffle,” it came time for the “Lido, whoa, whoa” part, he was right on it — with the backup singers helping, yes, but not drowning him out and thus protecting him. Scaggs came up a little short or a little thin on some of the high notes, but he went for them all.

It wasn’t just the lack of vocal cheats that made Scaggs’ 75-minute set in front of a near-sold-out crowd a success. His voice still has that full, creamy texture of the old days, and his delivery and phrasing brimmed with nuance. (more photos below; all are by Tracy May)

Scaggs’ most recent albums have been made up of standards from the Great American Songbook. He set that material aside at REH, opting instead for a compendium of hits from the latter half of the 1970s and early ’80s (”Jojo,” “Lowdown,” “Georgia,” “Look What You’ve Done to Me” and others) as well as blues and R&B tunes from his early, early career. His encore was an extended version of the slow blues “Loan me a Dime” from his 1969 self-titled album.

Scaggs, who played guitar as well, was backed by five instrumentalists and a dynamic background singer who, I think, went by Miss Monet. She was as torrid as Scaggs was ultra-cool, and provided the ideal vocal foil. Miss Monet took center stage for a roof-raising version of the Aretha Franklin vehicle “Until You Come Back To Me.” Her performance drew a big smile from the perpetually laid-back Scaggs.

The band’s dynamics were impeccable, dialed back at times in order to make room for Scaggs’ supple pipes to take the spotlight, allowing him to contour the lyrics in fresh ways.

Besides the fact that he omitted “Breakdown Dead Ahead” and declined to sing any standards, I was thoroughly pleased with Scaggs’ set. A longtime fan, it was my first occasion to see him in concert.

Just for the record, Michael McDonald played the second set of the double bill. I’m not a fan, so only caught a few tunes and left. As a result, I’ll pass on offering commentary here — except to say that he sat facing the crowd behind an electronic keyboard as his feet pumped on pedals … and he was wearing flip-flops. Yeesh.

Here’s a photo, however.

Okay, I’ll be 100% honest. I’m not nearly as familiar with Malcolm Holcombe as I should be. He’s always been an artist I’ve meant to delve into but for what ever reason, have never gotten around to checking out. However, after reading the following quote from leftofthedial I dunno how I could miss the chance to see him live:

“Holcombe played with a scary intensity. I didn’t want to take my eyes away for fear that he’d sneak up behind me and pull out a knife. His voice sounds a thousand years old (I mean that in a good way), probably the result of decades spent smoking and singing. His acoustic fingerpicking was just as hypnotic as his crazy hobo stare. What stood out about his performance even more than the music was his semi-coherent rambling between songs. He just kind of lapsed into and out of stories – I now know all about his wife, his false teeth, and about the $23.50 he made playing in Georgia, among other things.”

I mean, seriously … I think we’re in for something special. Join me will you?

Any other readers out there ever seen Malcolm? How was it?