Safe is not a word one normally associates with David Bowie. Here is an artist who has spent the better part of the last 35 years confounding expectations, challenging his audience onstage and off.

It was 1987—half a career ago—when Dame David last visited the Crescent City, on that occasion bringing his all-singing, all-dancing Glass Spider Tour to the Superdome. Tonight’s stop on the never-ending Reality jaunt promises to be a more intimate affair. Yet with tickets weighing in at a hefty $102 apiece, and a dazzling array of over-priced tat on offer in the foyer, it feels every bit as corporate as those crazy arachnid-fueled days of the late ‘80s.

A sparky “Rebel Rebel” gets us off to a flying start, but it’s not long before both Bowie and band slip into autopilot mode. “China Girl,” “Fame,” “Ashes to Ashes”—classics, sure. Still, as anyone who has witnessed a Bowie show during the last five years will testify, this is depressingly predictable stuff. Even the Reality material—better live than on the album—lacks a certain conviction after seven months on the road.

The odd interesting moment does, nevertheless, permeate the general atmosphere of dial-a-hit bonhomie. Earl Slick’s beefy guitar lends a robust edge to the once-insipid “Modern Love,” while sumptuous readings of obscure oldies “The Supermen” and “Quicksand” prove most welcome.

It’s not until the encore that Bowie finally shifts up a gear to reveal what he’s truly capable of. The extraordinary 25-strong support act the Polyphonic Spree swarm the stage for an uplifting “Slip Away,” before a remarkable four-song assault on the Ziggy Stardust album brings the two-and-three-quarter-hour show to a dramatic conclusion.

By past standards, tonight’s performance is somewhat of a safe one for Bowie. Measured against the majority of his contemporaries, however, it remains a mightily impressive achievement.