By Sean Duffy.
And so after twenty years, The Commitments returned to Dublin, announcing to a packed O2 arena “ The Commitments: On a mission to bring soul to Dublin.” I have to admit I had my suspicions about whether they could accomplish their mission. How would this assembled rabble fare on a night when an expected crowd returned yearning for something that we may no longer possess?
The sense of expectation was rising as the final act of a rather terrible battle of the bands left the stage. Suddenly the lights were dimmed and one by one all of our former hero’s returned on stage, each given their own introduction, to wild applause from a hugely diverse audience.
And then , as they say, it was on. The band burst into the unrelenting reat Her Right, and we were all sold in an instant. The sound was infectiously inclusive, the chemistry in the band like they’d never been apart. The crowd bounced along in delight, and any doubts were quickly allayed.
Next came Andrew Strong on Midnight Hour, who began what was the beginning of what was a truly spellbinding individual performance. Augmented brilliantly by the brass behind, Strong seems to reach into his own soul and pull us all in his desired direction. To his credit, he is actually probably easier on the eye than he was twenty years ago, and for anyone wondering, THIS is how fat guys get hot birds!!
And so the evening rolled on, the only surprising thing being how instantly recognisable the songs were, and the quality and precision with which they were delivered. Even the most sceptical of audience member (my mate) was blown away. The girl in front of me was English and had just been vomited upon (not by me), but remained undeterred. She was “LOVING IT”.
Strong was mesmeric on Dark End of the Street, which to my mind is by far and away the best thing this band do. This was followed by a hilarious piss take of “ Ireland’s Call” which Strong quickly put the kibosh on.
Aretha Franklin’s Chain of Fools soon followed, with the magnificent Angeline Ball showing she still has the voice as well as beauty. Soon it was Glen Hansard, fresh from serenading Barack Obama at the White House. If there was one annoying part of the whole gig, it was the cameraman’s continual focusing on Hansard throughout. Considering there were much more interesting things happening elsewhere onstage, the constant sight of Hansard’s harmless head became irksome after a while. This of course, was no fault of his own, and when it actually came for him to take centre stage, he delivered superbly. A slow burning version of Thin Lizzy’s Old Town, which exploded wonderfully into life augmented by Joey the Lips, (sorry!) on trumpet.
There was still time of course for the obligatory rendition of Mustang Sally, which was always going to be a hit, and which surpassed the expectations. You might be recognising a recurring theme here. Finally the ending came with the defiant Try a Little Tenderness. I wasn’t sure if they were trying to remind us of something with this or not, but in any case they had already.
They may have only brought soul to Dublin for one night, but for those that were there, they reminded us that we had a soul. That our initial love for The Commitments was about something more than just the music. It was the innocence and, the unabashed joy that music could bring to simpler times. This gig may not have worked here ten years ago. Perhaps we would not have been able to identify so profoundly with it. Only now are we beginning to rediscover what was good before we sold our souls, and The Commitments, in every verse, note and nuance, seemed to remind us of that.
