The lead singer did a decent David Clayton-Thomas impression and the musicians were excellent, especially the drummer, whose featured solo was a showpiece for his lightening-fast hands. But I wondered how the front man for the band calling itself Blood, Sweat & Tears (pursuant, I assume, to an array of legal agreements) could keep a straight face talking about “we” when referring to the band’s hits and accomplishments, including winning the 1970 Grammys Album of the Year over Abbey Road.

What made this braggadocio cringe-worthy for me is that only one of the current members of the band joined it before 2010, and even he joined 10 years after the last of the original members left. Did they really think the elderly audience was so senile that they would believe that these clones were the real thing?

Or perhaps the band was counting on an audience that had indulged in one too many of the omnipresent happy hours in The Villages. The local paper is filled with notices about them, right before the pages filled with notices about AA and Al-Anon meetings.

In The Villages’ three town squares, happy hours are accompanied by local bands playing golden oldies for free for the resident golden oldies, which begs the question as to why the residents pay to see a faux Blood, Sweat & Tears. Maybe it’s for the uncomfortable folding chairs in the Savannah Center.

Or maybe it’s for the chance to see surprise guest performers, like sports commentator and interviewer Roy Firestone, who was there plugging his book and forthcoming show, telling anecdotes, and doing speaking and singing impressions. I have to admit he wasn’t bad, but his act seemed so out of place that a lot of people sat and squirmed until the band appeared to do its impressions.  At least that was my impression.