It’s a familiar story: Irish band cancels their Minneapolis show; said Irish band makes it up with a rescheduled, gushed-about performance. This time it was The Script, not U2, who took center stage and screamed sweet nothings to an enamored, and mostly inebriated, crowd.
The Dublin pop-rock trio (made up of lead singer Danny O’Donoghue, guitarist Mark Sheehan, and drummer Glen Power) kicked off their American tour in Minneapolis Tuesday night at the Orpheum Theatre to promote their sophomore album Science & Faith. If the blaring, VMA-worthy music playing between sets was any indication of what to expect, then the dressed-for-downtown concertgoers dancing in their seats to “All the Single Ladies” and “Firework” weren’t left for wanting. O’Donoghue and Sheehan, like any good date, complimented the audience on their attentiveness and for being, well, into them. Before the band’s set started, there was commotion on the balcony—I could only assume the members were mingling with their admirers. Their excitement to be on tour and in the United States was palpable—if not for the music then for the ranch dressing and pancakes, two commodities not found in Ireland, according to Sheehan.
It’s hard to not compare The Script with U2—maybe it’s the Irish thing, or maybe it’s because The Script list U2 as a musical influence. Either way, there is undeniable evidence pointing to a fixation of sorts:
1. The music video for “For the First Time” from Science & Faith features Bono’s daughter Eve Hewson.
2. O’Donoghue resembles Bono, but in more of a stylistic than genetic sense.
3. The set and lighting is showy, with some weird alien thing in the opening (sound like a recent concert at TCF Bank Stadium?).
That said, the Orpheum was absolutely the wrong venue for a rock concert. It’s the type of setting that is more conducive to the acoustics of opener Jeremy Messersmith, for example. The Script’s most popular songs like “We Cry” and “Breakeven” were drowned out by the instrumental noise of the electric guitar and drums in the supposed background; the melodies were just barely discernable and O’Donoghue was straining to be heard.
Despite all of this, the crowd—ranging from tweeners to people their parent’s age—threw back their heads, raised their hands (and drinks) and sang every word they knew. There’s no chance The Script left with smaller egos than they had at the start of the night.
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