DiNizio’s ‘Confessions of a Rock Star’ honest, original

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Three chords and the truth. It’s a phrase that bounces around the music realm, from U2 to country singer Sara Evans, and it would have made a fine title for Pat DiNizio’s showcase at the Riviera.

The veteran rocker has fun with the three-chords thing. Plucking at a guitar, the singer-songwriter behind The Smithereens demonstrates how some enduring hits needed only a single chord (America’s “Horse With No Name”), or sometimes two (Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams”), and can sound downright luxurious with three (Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper”).

But it’s the truth that counts. Even when it’s not as debauched as the show’s real title, “Confessions of a Rock Star,” would lead you to believe.

DiNizio is a heavyset 56-year-old with a runny nose on this night. He talks from the stage about his 80-year-old mother in a 150-year-old house back in New Jersey, and a 17-year-old daughter who has been accepted to a prestigious university that expects money from him.

But the truth doesn’t hurt. Watching this honest, original effort in the Riviera’s “Crazy Girls” showroom reminds you how most Las Vegas entertainment kind of flies in your face, loud and artificial by its very construct, shouting in your general direction instead of speaking directly to you.

DiNizio based this show on sets he used to do in fans’ living rooms. These days, his skills as a raconteur are more compelling than the handful of Smithereens hits with a power trio that anchor the narrative.

The show turns out to have strong parallels to what Garth Brooks is doing at Wynn Las Vegas, though it seems to be total coincidence. (You could say both of them are riffing on the old VH1 “Storytellers.”) Both singers reach beyond die-hard fans to put their own hits into a larger narrative of rock and pop-culture history.

The Smithereens enjoyed an alt-rock street cred while making no attempts to conceal their ’60s rock and pop influences. DiNizio covers Buddy Holly’s “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” as he tells the story of how he became friends with Holly’s widow, Maria Elena. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” ties into his life-changing discovery of the Beatles on his transistor radio, as well as a later meeting with Paul and Linda McCartney.

Brooks also recounts tales of meeting his musical idols, but DiNizio’s are more surprising. After all, The Smithereens never cracked the superstar ranks, so the “six degrees of separation” yarns drive home what doors a hit song or three could do in the 1980s, when the music industry still commanded more of our collective attention span.

“It’s unfathomable that this happened to me,” he declares at one point. “I’m part of the club. Not really, but they made me feel like I was for a while.”

DiNizio details the strange travels of “Blood and Roses” from movies to “Miami Vice,” and how “A Girl Like You” would have been an even bigger hit had Madonna not backed out on doing harmony vocals, upset by her breakup with Sean Penn.

The music is solid garage rock with help from bassist Kenny Howes and drummer Nate Stalfa. On this night, DiNizio’s vocals seemed muffled for about two-thirds of it, but the eventual clarity suggested the issue was more with the sound system than his voice.

Side screens occasionally perk up the low-fi effort, especially the parade of iconic movie goddesses in “A Girl Like You.” Still, the dingy lighting is unnecessarily downbeat. Didn’t those “Storytellers” at least have a few candles?

But it’s DiNizio’s sincerity that lights up the room. “Are we doing OK?” he asks, more than once, in genuine concern. Anyone who grew up on rock, and isn’t ready to let it go, can answer back with a song title from another of DiNizio’s idols: “The kids are alright.”

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.