L.V. producer and performer John Menniti: Why do some shows have ‘it’?

There is longevity (and hope) on the Strip. Producer and performer John Menniti noted for me that T.J. Tyler hasn’t taken a break in 15 years from his nightly four hours at The Orchid Room in Mandalay Bay. Also at Mandalay is his Vegas Limit with All Request Live; they’ve never used a setlist in their eight-year residency there.

What’s the secret to shows having “it”? John has some thoughts:

A big part of my job is to keep creating ideas to offer to my corporate and casino contacts who are always looking for the next big thing. I strive to provide something unique and atypical, whether it’s an iband who performs concerts entirely with cell phones and tablets or musicians at Mandalay like Vegas Limit and T.J. Tyler.

About 10 years ago, while onstage with The Fab, I had an epiphany. First of all, I was thrilled to be with a group of guys who are doing it for all the right reasons. Everyone in The Fab performs with a heartfelt passion that only comes with truly loving the material you’re playing. With The Fab, it’s all about the music.

If you’ve never seen them before, they cover the entire Beatles catalog sans wigs and costumes. I’d always felt that framing a show around iconic albums that people love instead of impersonating performers would be a different and viable way to pay tribute to a great band or artist, and that day I realized that, this was the perfect vehicle for doing that.

In Its Entirety

I booked us a showroom to play “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Band” in its entirety. After that sellout, we did “Abbey Road,” which did the same, and before we knew it, we were on our way to performing virtually every Beatles album and compilation in showrooms everywhere. The “In Its Entirety” concert series was born.

Over the last decade, In Its Entirety has expanded and currently stages spectacular concerts for corporate, private and public events paying tribute to dozens of classic albums including Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon,” Boston’s debut, Chicago “IX,” Led Zeppelin “IV,” Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors” and AC/DC’s “Back in Black,” to name just a few.

In Its Entirety is currently contracted at Red Rock Resort, where a different classic album performance is staged on the third Friday of every month. Recent shows include “The Best of Bee Gees Gold” in July and a 50th anniversary tribute to The Beatles’ “Revolver” last month.

One could probably attribute the popularity of In Its Entirety to the void that rampant advances in technology have created in the way we listen to music. When was the last time you listened to an album from beginning to end? The way you answer that question is probably an indication of which era you grew up.

Back in the 1950s, for instance, singles ruled the airwaves, and albums were comprised of what was largely considered fluff or filler material. It wasn’t until The Beatles broke through in the early 1960s that the industry got a glimpse of what could happen when an album was comprised of a dozen or so songs, all of which had the potential to be bona-fide smashes.

All of a sudden, albums were a viable commodity, and record company boardroom questions veered from what songs to release to which ones to strategically hold back to make exclusively available to those who bought the album. In fact, the most iconic Beatles masterpiece, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” didn’t have any single releases at all.

“Pepper” and the preceding The Beach Boys classic, “Pet Sounds,” were the first major rock concept albums intended to be listened to from beginning to end as a cohesive piece of art. Once you put that needle on the vinyl and turned up the volume, you were immersed in the magic and taken on an exquisite musical journey.

Later on, The Beatles’ “Abbey Road” and Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” took it a step further with an extraordinary array of music, where tracks bled seamlessly into each other without discernable markers or dead air spacing. Oh, those joyous journeys!

Record industry collapse

While I wouldn’t say that the album is on track to go the way of MySpace or folding road maps yet, it could certainly use a little elbow grease on the spindle to keep it revolving. With the onset of the age of 99-cent downloads and collapse of the record industry, the mainstream approach to consuming music is to choose tunes that appeal to you and create custom playlists. There also are streaming services readily available to do the work for you.

While I’m all for advances that make listening to music easier and more readily available, it is sad that the album as we knew it has become collateral damage in the stampede for a quick fix on our respective ear candy addictions. For those who are picturing me on my front porch yelling at neighborhood kids to get off my lawn, I apologize. For everyone else, we’ll see you at the next “Best of Bee Gees Gold.”