This was a one night stand if ever there was one. Tomorrow there would be another city and another audience. The same lines would be used, IR-E-LA-ND replaced by GER-MA-NY or ENG-ER-LAND. The Irish t-shirts, sported by Fergie, Tabbo, apl.de.ap and Will.i.am, would also be discarded. An assistant would be dispatched to get the necessary silly hats and tourist gear for the next city. Black Eyed Peas would show them the love and then move on out.
And that was the problem with tonight. It was all a bit smarmy, a bit contrived and very false. It was like seeing a depressed clown suddenly switch into work mode, laughing and smiling and throwing buckets of water around, all in the name of entertainment.
It’s why some were here, for the entertainment value, and Black Eyed Peas undoubtedly entertained. They bounced around the stage. There was break dancing and musically choreographed Robbie Keane somersaults. In between songs there were even little stage acts (Fergie: "What you gonna do baby?" Cue summersault from Taboo. Cue crowd cheers, etc). This was very much the hard sell, emphasised by the Irish scarves and hats sported by those on stage. BEP were hitting us where we were most vulnerable: our national pride.
As the night went on it felt like watching a Saturday morning kids TV show, as Will.i.am screamed “You keys want to hear some of our new album, Monkey Business, released in early June? I can’t hear you? You guys going to buy this?").
The gig got going in earnest when the group dispensed with the Vaudeville theatrics and concentrated on the music. When ‘Where Is The Love’, ‘Let’s Get Retarded’ and current single ‘Don’t Phunk My Heart’ were unleashed, they provoked a frenzied response from an audience that just wanted to dance. This was pop, and was more than enough to get the crowd going.
Too often though we, as an audience, were treated like we needed an Irish flag to excite us.