The band returned to the stage proper for magnificent performances of "Viva La Vida" and "Lost!" before moving to another alternate stage, this time on near the bleachers on the opposite end of the amphitheater. I was having a lot of fun at this show that seemed as breezy as the unseasonably cool, comfortable weather but I was also getting a little irritated that so much of the show was being performed from remote locations. That irritation melted when the band used a fun cover of The Monkees' "I'm A Believer" to introduce the band.
Yes, I said it. The cover was fun. I don't covet The Monkees nor do I particularly like "I'm A Believer." One cover used for quasi-comic effect in the course of an evening didn't seem indulgent or annoying. In fact, nothing on this night was really annoying me. I liked it better when the band was closer, but wasn't that bothered when they departed to the far reaches. I didn't really like sitting in traffic nor walking from our car parked in Mobile to the show in Birmingham, but parking was free. The little things that can aggravate an easily irritated man didn't seem so bad.
Maybe it was because I was touched by some real, perspective-providing events in the days leading up to this show. Maybe it was because Coldplay created an atmosphere that made it so easy to cast fear, anxiety, worry, regret, and frustration aside. Throughout the show, Martin checked on the crowd and wished them the absolute best evening of their lives.
While some have dismissed the band's music as being lightweight or mellow, people who listen to these songs know these aren't ordinary odes to ordinary things. Songs of love and lost aren't uncommon, but there's nothing ordinary about love's power or the devastation of love's loss and when they sing of these things they go beyond Beavis and Butt-head choruses of how life would suck without someone. Questions of faith and mortality also permeate Coldplay's work; these songs go beyond the philosophy of the hook up. Chris Martin may be ponderous, but his earnestness keeps the songs from becoming a long day.
The show began its final descent, and both Chris Martin and Jon Buckland hit a bum note during the intro to "Death And All His Friends." Martin again playfully chided himself and as he recovered, "Death And All His Friends" became a spiritual elevator. I felt myself leaving the ground, just for a little while. I sang the chorus louder than anything I'd sung all night, even "Cemeteries of London." It was also the first time all night I could hear 11 singing beside me, through the noise of the band, the crowd, and my earplugs. I don't think his feet were on the ground either.
Article comments
1 - Glen Boyd
Wow, dude...that was longer than two of my most indulgent Rockologist columns. I'm going to see these guys in July though, so thanks for the preview. And for clearing that thing up about the free CDs at the end (I downloaded it, but you still had me a little worried). Hopefully, as I'm still single we'll get the added bonus of the "2009 model" thingies in Seattle too...
-Glen
2 - El Bicho
"It would have been ironic if we'd had to go to a Coldplay show to hear a Bruce Springsteen song"
That would have been awesome since I believed I called that a few days prior