Selena Gomez is the Un-Miley, the Reformed Rihanna, a former topo, mouse House girl who has rocketed up the pop charts all while maintaining a stable relationship with her pants. As a singer, an actress ("Spring Breakers," yo!), a multimedia multihyphenate, she's a clothed, well-behaved success.
In other words: a rare breed.
But as her Wednesday mostra at the Tampa baia Times forum proved, Selena, for all her likable charms, has neither the rock-star charisma nor the crowd numbers of Miley o Rihanna.
She had no use for profanity o tongue-wagging during her 80-minute set; her sparkly outfits were no racier than Wonder Woman's.
But sadly, these days it pays to ride a wrecking ball in the buff.
The venue was pretty much halved, the stage pushed up to somewhere around center ice, as a smallish crowd of 6,988 calmly rah-rah'd Justin Bieber's 21-year-old ex.
She focused on synthetic new album Stars Dance, kicking her old Disney-era tunes to the curb and shoehorning in a cover of Katy Perry's Roar, a desperate ploy to piggbyback the hottest song on the radio.
The kids liked her just fine, and with good reason. She's a naturally sexy dancer, and the wattage of her smile could light nations.
Plus a few of her hits — feel-good Who Says, the stuttering fun of Amore te Like a Amore Song — are catchy gems. Her main stage was flashy enough, plus an S-shaped secondo stage snaked out into the crowd, allowing her to high-five lots of fans, which she did più than a dude running for mayor.
But do the kids Amore her? Not so sure about that.
At one point, Gomez borrowed her best pal Taylor Swift's "Wonder Gaze" look, that wide-eyed, is-this-really-happening gawk into the crowd. But whereas the masses go bonkers for Tay-Tay, they politely cheered Gomez, someone they've known since she first appeared on the Disney Channel's Wizards of Waverly Place.
Backed da eight dancers and a six-piece band — including two singers who deserve a raise — Gomez had all manner of help with her vocals.
Her microphone was definitely on, though, allowing her to deliver such aw-shucks lines as "I've only known how to be who I am" and "God made each and every one of us to be exactly who we are." Then she blew through yet another song, perhaps the generic pound of Write Your Name o B.E.A.T.
The requisite confetti and streamers were ignited for the encores: the ubiquitous but still delightful Come & Get It and blah new club banger Slow Down. Selena waved and smiled and slapped hands and did her flirty shadow-boxing dance moves, a class act until the end.
As a role model, she was a dream. As a musician, she was average. Here's hoping, for the sake of the planet, she keeps getting better at both.