Coldplay’s recent Manila stop not just any other concert
Chris Martin of Coldplay
The fireworks exploded into a multitude of colors in the night sky. The stage unleashed a haywire of pulsating beams of laser that sliced through the darkness. And from above, a swirl of thick confetti rained down.
If this was any other concert, one would likely assume that the final number had already been sung. But this wasn’t any other concert. This was the recent Manila stop of Coldplay’s kaleidoscopic “A Head Full of Dreams Tour,” where bells and whistles were in no shortage of supply—and just about everything rumbled, crackled and sparkled.
Matching the show’s frenetic, carnival-like atmosphere was Chris Martin, the British pop-rock band’s affable frontman, who shuttled between different musical instruments, when he wasn’t dancing, jumping and flailing about.
“It’s such a thrill and honor, so I thank everyone for being so welcoming and kind to us and making us feel amazing,” Martin told the roaring crowd at SM Mall of Asia concert ground on Tuesday night.
The bulk of songs on the show’s setlist were culled from “Mylo Xyloto,” “Ghost Stories” and “A Head Full of Dreams”—Coldplay’s three most recent studio albums in which the band’s shift toward a more electronic and synth-laden style is most clear-cut.
The sound, therefore, was generally upbeat; a curious collision of pop-rock and dance music that was at times funky, as in “Adventure of a Lifetime,” and anthemic, as in “A Sky Full of Stars.”
It wasn’t all bob-your-head-and-shuffle-your-feet bouncy, however. Every so often, the band flirted with dreamy, almost ambient, instrumentation. There was the pensive whimsy of such songs as “Magic” and “Always in My Head.”
“Up&Up,” meanwhile, was an atmospheric slow-burner with soft back beats that surged toward an uplifting, gospel-inflected chorus.
On the flower-decked upright piano, Martin delivered one of his most emotionally connected vocal performances in the ballad, “Everglow.”
“So, if you love someone, you should let them know,” he crooned in a plaintive, earnest voice, before a clip of Muhammad Ali—speaking to an audience about using his fame to help others—came onscreen.
But while the concert was focused on the band’s newer material, Coldplay didn’t entirely neglect its earlier discography, and made sure to please longtime fans, by revisiting its soft-rock roots, and indulging them with some of the band’s definitive tunes:
In “Yellow,” the group’s first important hit, Martin sang wielding a guitar, while people waved their arms aloft.
In “The Scientist,” a reddish haze hovered above the stage, as Martin tickled the ivories of the piano. “We have just met, but I already think you guys are awesome!” Martin said. “So why don’t we do another chorus?”
In “Yellow,” the group’s first important hit, Chris Martin sang wielding a guitar, while people waved their arms aloft. —PHOTOS BY RICHARD A. REYES
The clanging of chimes and bells signaled “Viva La Vida,” which promptly ignited a sudden spike of energy. Martin furiously spun around like a top, before collapsing on a digital whirlpool superimposed on the circular second stage.
All the while, the audience morphed into a sea of lights, thanks to the glowing wristbands the fans wore.
And then there was the ballad, “Fix You”—quite possibly Coldplay’s most recognizable song, even among non-fans—which elicited an impassioned sing-along.
In dramatic fashion, the 40-year-old singer began the number singing lying on his back. And when at last the tune swelled into an affecting crescendo, Martin got up and pumped his fists in the air.
But at a concert designed to impress and overwhelm the senses, how does one create a sense of intimacy?
In the show’s latter portions, Martin—together with guitarist Jonny Buckland, bassist Guy Berryman and drummer Will Champion—trooped to the smaller and barebones stage.
There, they stripped down all the frippery, as if trying to remind everyone of how things were, before the band turned into the touring behemoth it is today.
They aptly performed older songs, like “In My Place” and “Don’t Panic,” in which Buckland and Champion took over the singing duties. It was also on this stage that Martin broke away from the concert’s intricately curated structure, and allowed himself some spontaneity.
As a thank-you gift for the thousands of eager Filipino fans who had “braved the traffic and ticket prices,” and “waited for 17 years,” Martin, fiddling with his guitar, whipped up an impromptu “Manila song”—parts of which went thus: “I’d say that the crowd’s such a thrilla/ They’re all killa, no filla …”
“Oh, with love we’re touring ‘My Head Full of Dreams’/Now, we made it to the Philippines/ Just listen to the way the crowd screams,” he continued, throwing his head back and pointing to the sky full of stars.
Bedlam.
The Manila leg of Coldplay’s “A Head Full of Dreams” tour was mounted by MMI Live.
