Coldplay

Arena venues such as the NIA are what Coldplay are all about these days: huge stadium sing-a-longs, expensive, showy light displays, selling out massive venues months in advance, all that lark. And whereas the band’s early albums threw up some classic pop songs that grew into arena sing-a-longs, you sense the new album Viva la Vida is crafted perfectly for that aim. Big songs, big lights, big ticker-tape explosions, big empty feeling inside. Admittedly the seat I had probably didn’t help (so high up I had a nosebleed, and so far round the side I was actually behind the stage), but that just added to the feeling that as many people who were willing to pay for the £45 ticket were being crammed in no matter how much of the show they would get to experience. The fact that the whole arena was seated and that the vast majority of the audience was over 40 did nothing to liven the atmosphere. As much as I would have loved to hear Chris Martin’s voice during the show, it was inevitably drowned out by the obese, incomprehensibly bad smelling couple to my right droning along to ‘Yellow’ perfectly backed up by the soothing tones of the OAPs to my left.

Regardless of all this it was impossible to deny the talent and energy that went into the show. Chris Martin ran all over the stage like a kid on Smarties, Will Champion’s performance on drums was incredible, and the sound was amazing even at my dizzying heights. One of the highlights of the show came when the whole band disappeared off stage and re-appeared at the back of the arena on a small improvised stage in the stands to play a few acoustic songs. It worked well and no doubt provided the people close by with a night to remember, but I again was left craning, not really seeing much and gagging at the smell every time the women to my right lifted her arms to clap.

It was nevertheless an amazing show; for the majority of people who had turned up to hear the band belt out their old classics it was money well spent. Martin banged out ‘Trouble’, ‘In My Place’ and mellowed out to croon ‘Fix You’ and ‘The Scientist’ – which was concluded with a version of Take That’s ‘Back For Good’. They were all impressive performances and the masses were happy, but it had the feel of someone who displayed fake enthusiasm for singing songs they were tired of. Most people went home happy then, and it was an undeniably good show, the songs were all there, they were all tight, and towards the end the band somehow managed to develop an atmosphere. Maybe it was just me who was the odd one out, maybe I wasn’t old enough; I wasn’t wearing slacks after all. For someone who is used to being pressed against the front barrier of a small venue by a sweaty mass and being showered in piss, I suppose it was the wrong choice of gig.