Miguel isn’t stagy, but he is very controlled, particularly physically. For “Strawberry Amazing” he broke out a windmill spin without bumping into anything—and space is tight on the Joe’s stage for someone performing without a mike stand or keyboard, let alone someone surrounded by bandmates and gear. He was a dab hand with that stand, manipulating it fluidly during “Use Me.” Near the end, during “Sure Thing,” he perfectly executed a leap into the crowd—right where the men were sitting on the floor, no less—and bounded over to the median separating the stage-front tables from the ones near the bar. The many appreciative women had been singing along the minute “Sure Thing” began; now they were clapping, too.
So were the men, including the ones on the floor. It’s not like us XY’s were underserved: The cheers for “Pussy Is Mine” were noticeably chesty (the women weren’t being silent, either). Miguel sang that one like a measured dare—I’ll blink when you do, expectant rather than coy. When he finished the equally lusty “Quickie,” he smiled appreciatively: “Y’all nasty!” he told the women. “Y’all should be ashamed of yourselves!”