It’s a lovely moment, if something of a slog to get there.Īt Bournemouth International Centre, 24 February. When you email the seller all you get told is ask me on telegram. O’Donoghue leads the song from the photo pit and the crowd sing the chorus after he’s gone. Still, The Man Who Can’t Be Moved’s tale of devotional love remains sublime, the crowd provide a massed voice choir for Hall of Fame and light up the arena with phones in For the First Time. On the bigger stage, a nadir of overfamiliarity is reached with a mashup of their song Good Ol’ Days with House of Pain’s Irish-American rap ubiquity, Jump Around. There’s another lovely moment when the band pop up in distant seating block 103, delivering a stripped-down mini-set as intimately as a pub gig. Otherwise, O’Donoghue doesn’t seem a bad sort, and for all his various platitudes, a dedication to schoolteachers (“we need more people like you”) feels genuine. “It’s funny,” the singer claims, but it feels rather mean. Of the more than thirty coverage notes I’ve. About one in four coverage services provides useful feedback. Similarly, there’s a whiff of the young Bono about frontman Daniel O’Donoghue, who darts between the catwalks and urges: “Leeds, Friday night, give it up!” Where the U2 singer would phone presidents from the stage in his MacPhisto devilish guise, O’Donoghue calls an audience member’s ex to deliver a “fuck you” to a poor chap called Peter. 1 Screenplay coverage services will, for around 300, provide feedback on your script. Guitarist Mark Sheehan’s playing is so reminiscent of U2’s the Edge’s that he seems ready to break into one of their songs at any moment. The endless “whoah whoah”s feel cynically, rather than effectively, employed. Unfortunately, much of their music is similarly overstuffed with cliches, a sort of post-Keane/Coldplay pop-rock mix of pounding pianos and big and sugary, if rather vapid, choruses.
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