No sooner had Michael Bolton made his entrance at the Merriweather Post Pavilion Saturday night than the screaming began.
His fans -- most of them female, all of them frenzied -- knew they were in the presence of one of pop music's reigning sex gods, and they reacted accordingly. A few, in fact, seemed about to speak in tongues.
It wasn't Bolton's hunky good looks that got them going, though; not his long hair, his high cheekbones or even his broad-shouldered physique. Rather, it was his sensitivity that did it, his unabashed display of romantic vulnerability that had them screaming in their seats. From the set-opening anguish of "It's Only My Heart" to the near-operatic drama of "We're Not Makin' Love Anymore" (performed as a steamy duet with back-up singer Christina Nichols), Bolton invariably wore his heart on his sleeve -- or, at least, his microphone stand.