Stefani escapes controversy with style

The self-described Orange County girl has earned leading lady status. What Stefani lacks in operatic pipes she makes up for in style. And Wednesday, her sometimes thin voice sounded warm and strong on ballads like 4 in the Morning, one of a couple songs she said had been inspired by her baby boy, Kingston (who was asleep in the tour bus, she later told the audience).

Stefani, like her idols Madonna and Deborah Harry, is a rhythmic vocal singer, not a soul belter. Fusing dancehall toasting, the wide beats of West Coast rap, and pop anthems, she's forged a style all her own (that the Black Eyed Peas' Fergie has now lifted and taken to the bank). She has a great feel for hooks and loves a good adventure. Live, she played with a six-piece band -- including singer/bassist Gail Ann Dorsey -- that matched her cut-and-paste sensibility perfectly. This is a woman who can keep a melody going over the mere accompaniment of the vamping bass hand of a piano and some martial drum beats.

But mostly, it was about the visuals. Following on the heels of the Konvict set by controversial hitmaker Akon, Stefani took the stage in a jail cell, wearing jailbird black and white (her favorite colors), singing the theme song of The Sweet Escape Tour: ``I've been a real bad girl.''

She could have been explaining why she's kept Akon as an opening act, even though he cost the tour its sponsor: Verizon dropped The Sweet Escape after video footage of Akon roughly simulating sex with a teenage girl onstage in Trinidad got him in hot water. Stefani's standing by her man: Akon came out to sing his parts on The Sweet Escape and Gwen wrapped her arm around him.

This was a family-friendly show, appropriately, since there were lots of families in the audience. Stefani is the rare pop starlet who doesn't flaunt cleavage or booty -- though she did show off her impossibly long torso in one of the last of the many killer outfits she wore. She's more the tomboy, suburban girl-next-door type -- athletic, a surfer or skateboarder -- than a singing stripper.

Stefani played 16 songs from her two albums and no No Doubt tunes. She seemed ecstatic with the reaction of the crowded amphitheatre despite the Verizon/Akon controversy -- or perhaps because of her triumph over it. Who needs sponsors, when you've got some 14,000 fans singing along to Cool, a song Stefani sang from the sound board to the people with lawn seats. The singer noted that several numbers had been written in Miami; two of her talented dancers were also Dade County progeny.

Akon seemed eager to put adversity behind him, though his voice and show were understandably somewhat strained. He let the audience sing the provocative words of Smack That and I Wanna Love You. ''If I sing it I might end up on CNN again,'' he said, in the night's only direct reference to the controversy. It seemed incongruous when the Senegalese singer, whose name is a reference to his own experience as a convicted felon, asked the suburban-looking crowd how many were from the ghetto, and if they were convicts.

Akon has an interesting, reggae-style tenor and the physique of a narcissist. Until the recent setback, he was poised to be the biggest success story of the year, with a top-selling album and several hits. If he can escape from the consequences of his own foolish actions, life will be sweet for him indeed.