Bye-bye, Barry. It’s been fun.

After 50 years of touring, pop songsmith and romantic balladeer Barry Manilow has decided to say goodbye to the road, but not before bidding farewell to the “Fanilows” one last time at St. Paul’s Xcel Energy Center on Friday night. From now on, it will take a trip to Vegas or New York’s Radio City Music Hall to catch him in concert, and there was a lot of Vegas splash and dazzle to what he delivered to the 11,000 or so who gathered to enjoy his showy slice of the ‘70s one last time.

And it was indeed quite an enjoyable set. For 90 minutes, the 81-year-old Manilow demonstrated much of what he’s learned about showmanship over the course of a half-century on stage, giving irresistible sell jobs to each of the 18 songs he and his 13-piece backing band performed, augmenting them with engaging stories and self-deprecating stage banter.

OK, somewhat self-deprecating, for the Brooklyn-born popster knows that his schmaltzy ‘70s love songs provided the soundtrack for a lot of passionate necking and beyond, so much so that he referred to himself as a “sex god” with a smirk. He spoke of inheriting that mantle from singers like Johnny Mathis, and those songs of love and longing were as full of swoon-inducing emotion as they were back in the day.

But Manilow didn’t just pile one ballad atop another. He varied the tempos well, opening with 1974’s “It’s a Miracle,” and tossing in a buoyant “Bandstand Boogie” (the theme to the old “American Bandstand” TV show) with assistance from three backup singers in ‘50s teen attire. And of course he couldn’t let the crowd go without the salsa-spiced “Copacabana,” which served as a spirited set closer.

But let’s face it: Ballads are this man’s specialty, and he knows it. That’s why he poured so much into them, many sung while seated at a grand piano. After some early wobbly moments on held notes, his voice warmed and grew stronger as the evening progressed.

After seeming content to let the crowd take the vocals on “I Can’t Smile Without You” — complete with follow-the-bouncing-ball lyrics on a screen above the stage — his interest in the material and the quality of his delivery seemed to turn a corner when relating an affectionate story of a grandfather who encouraged his musical pursuits. Eventually, he inserted a recording of his grandfather singing with “Baby Barry” into a touching version of “This One’s for You.”

From there, the emotional intensity only ascended, with the irrepressible heartbreak of “Even Now” bursting forth on a big closing crescendo (and a long-held high note that earned a lengthy ovation) and “Weekend in New England” pushing the melancholy meter into the red zone. He did similar things with a medley of “Mandy” and “Could It Be Magic” for which he sang a duet with his 1975 self, courtesy of a tape from “The Midnight Special.”

But the ballad that proved the evening’s high point may have been one of his simplest and least bombastic, as Manilow left his concert grand behind for a smaller electric piano and presented a moving take on “All the Time,” a song he said he wrote for those who feel themselves outcasts. It felt like perhaps the most sincere moment of the concert, especially coming after touting the work of music educators — including presenting a grant to a teacher at St. Paul’s Washington Technology Magnet — and saying that music was where he found his tribe.

It served to remind listeners that, beneath the Vegas glitz, Manilow’s expertise is crafting love songs that push all the right emotional buttons, expressing the sadness of separation and tsunamis of passion. Friday’s concert underlined that this is an artist who knows his strengths and how to show them to their best effect.

Rob Hubbard can be reached at wordhub@yahoo.com.

Related Articles

Weekend blues festival in St. Paul is free and open to the public

St. Paul music festival promotes health by getting people together ‘to move our bodies’

What to know if you’re headed to the Basilica Block Party

Elvis, ATV stunts and bull riding: Five-day Washington County Fair opens Wednesday

Concert review: A little rain couldn’t stop Foo Fighters from setting Target Field on fire