BROOKS AND DUNN DRAWS CROWD OF ALMOST 7,200

Perhaps Kix Brooks and Ronnie Dunn should not have selected Aaron Tippin as one of their opening acts for their 1993 "Stampede" tour.

Because the duo's entrance onto the stage was almost an anti-climax to the boundless energy Tippin exuded, his vivacious demeanor and the sheer fun he seemed to be having, made 7,182 concertgoers leap to their feet, scream with delight and beg for more at the Show Me Center Friday night.

The headline act was plagued by sound difficulties from the start, beginning with the microphones' failure to broadcast the duo's voices singing their opening song, "Brand New Man," until about the 20th word of the first chorus.

The lyrics Brooks was singing were often indiscernible, and sometimes a bit off-key. His voice was raspy and out-of-breath, greatly due to his acrobatic antics, racing back and forth across the stage.

As the show opened, there was no mistaking who was taking the stage. A giant "Brooks & Dunn" banner spanned the rear of the stage, and gargantuan silhouettes of Brooks and Dunn (aptly labeled) flanked the sides.

As long as Brooks was racing wildly back and forth across the stage, or Dunn was touching the hands of excited females in the front row, the audience stayed on its feet, cheering them on. The crowd -- the fourth largest at a Show Me Center concert since its opening -- was also spurred on by the duo's throwing of guitar picks, cowboy hats, sweaty towels, T-shirts and other trinkets into the first few rows. The concertgoers on the floor were also showered by hundreds of black "Brooks & Dunn" balloons.

As soon as the music died down or the act paused to catch its breath, the audience responded as such.

The concert was very short. The duo only played 14 songs before leaving the stage, and then performed a two-song encore before the house lights went up. But, being a relatively new band on their first headlining tour, the shorter length of the concert was somewhat understandable.

Sammy Kershaw once said, "Rock music is simply country music played at a higher speed without the twang." Brooks & Dunn push country music to the rock limit with an almost entirely electrified band, brash guitar licks and a hard-core drum-base.

Even their stage presence -- with fog machines, a complex light show and two descending stars ornamented with strobe-like lights -- lends to a rock-like atmosphere. But underneath the pomp and circumstance, Brooks and Dunn lent the same "feel-good, tap-your-boot, clap-your-hands, smile-on-your-face-when-the-song-is-over" kind of feeling country music fans have come to expect.

Yet, there was something missing.

When Tippen pranced about the stage, he had a huge smile on his face -- as if he was completely overwhelmed by the reception of the Southeast Missouri and Southern Illinois audience.

He would shake his head and extend his arms out toward the audience, sometimes waving off the lauding of the masses before him.

This reviewer saw Brooks & Dunn perform in St. Louis in summer of 1992, and laid witness to an entirely different band. The Brooks and Dunn of 1992 were as happy as Tippen was to be where he was and to be doing what he loved best.

Friday night Brooks and Dunn had changed. The duo, though energetic, were more mechanical, blending in with their high-tech surroundings. They were expecting the audience to be overwhelmed by their presence; to accept what they offered but also to beg for more.

Brooks (the cowboy) and Dunn (the pretty boy) are an odd combination that has somehow clicked to create songs the likes of "Boot Scootin' Boogie," "Hard Working Man," and "Lost and Found."

But for their Cape Girardeau venue, the magic simply wasn't there. Tippin emerged as the "Honky Tonk Superman" he claimed to be in one of his final songs.

Brooks and Dunn burned their bridges with each passing song.