Part one: Coldplay vs Mercury Rev
Rod Laver Arena is a vast cavern. Yet the stage, with its flanking walkways, is an embrace, and we are the lucky few hundred, who have endured hours of waiting and jostling to earn the privilege of nestling therein.
The mood is generally upbeat. But support acts at major concerts are anathema at the best of times, and tonight's, eccentric, veteran Buffalo rockers Mercury Rev, quickly loses the crowd's good will.
It's a shame. These guys are the reason I'm here. I had pondered and rejected the prospect of paying $140 to see Coldplay live. Then Mercury Rev were announced as the support act. What had seemed like a steep price was now a bargain: two bands for the price of one.
Musically, the match makes sense. The ethereally saccharine, atmospheric kook of Mercury Rev is surely a good fit with the experimental, melodic pop-rock of Coldplay's latest album, Viva la Vida. They are compatriots in the land of sound and melody.
Still, muppet-voiced lead singer Jonathan Donahue (pictured) is an oddball. During the crashing, closing chords of one big ballad, he stands for a full minute, grimacing, biceps flexed in a mock strongman pose. The crowd is disinterested and derisive. They titter and chatter.
I feel self-conscious as I bop my head and sing along — resentful. I'm probably not the only one enjoying their music, but it feels like it. 'Show some respect,' I want to scream. 'These guys have been around since before most of you were born.'
Of course, you can't hold others' tastes against them. Besides, it is the nature of playing support that you will usually fade out in the glare of the headliners. And when it comes to Coldplay, a ubiquitous and accessible band, the glare is indeed bright.
Part (U)2
A lot of people like U2, although it's some years since it was respectable to do so. Discerning music fans might identify their music as a 'secret pleasure'. 'Yeah, I like them,' they'll admit, wincing as if from an unpleasant odour.
That bad smell is Bono, or, more specifically, the front man's public persona. During the past decade Bono has erected a benevolent twin alongside his towering ego. He's cast himself as the would-be saviour of the world's poor.
You can't begrudge the man his ubiquitous spruiking on their behalf. Still, even the most diehard U2 fan must sometimes wish he'd just shut up for a