Far be it from me to immediately come out all defensive when writing a review, but I’m well aware that liking a band like The Script isn’t the ‘cool’ thing to do. The band know that, too, and have defended themselves in recent interviews. The thing about their stance about their band this time around, however, is that they can afford to stand up and make their voices heard, and to be proud of what they’ve achieved – regardless of where you stand on them, you can’t take that away from them – because they’ve finally made an album to back everything up.
That’s my opinion, at least. I didn’t used to think that much of them; I’d heard the singles from their self-titled, and thought they were good, but they weren’t my kind of thing back then. I wasn’t ‘into’ pop music. Fast forward 4 years – and the album with which I did get on board (2010’s Science & Faith), and the band have taken off, selling out stadia at home and elsewhere. I always think it’s a big deal when an Irish band blow up in that fashion – but this time, I think it’s fully justified.
Note for note, #3 (trailed by the will.i.am-featuring Hall of Fame) is quite a bit stronger than their previous work. Kicked off by Good Ol’ Days, a scene-setter on which the band address their meteoric rise (‘In the future, these’ll be the good ol’ days’), the album showcases a more positive and uplifting side to the band. They’ve gone from writing songs about unemployment (For the First Time) to ones about just having a good time, with or without the involvement of alcohol (that same song features the lyrics, ’10 o’clock and it’s off / It started as a pub crawl, now we’re all lost’), their new outlook infusing songs like Kaleidoscope (arguably their best song to date) with an infectious enthusiasm.
It’s not all sunshine and roses, though: frontman Danny O’Donoghue has penned a couple of his most personal songs yet, with Six Degrees of Separation inspired by his recent break-up, its protagonist turning to drink and drugs before realising they ‘may have fucked up a little’ and deciding to turn it around. If You Could See Me Now, meanwhile, is a song so painful for two members of the band that they’ve admitted they’ll never play it live, dealing as it does with the unfortunate passing of O’Donoghue’s fellow-musician father Shay, as well as guitarist Mark Sheehan’s tragic loss of his father aged just 14 and the death of his mother 4 months before Danny’s dad.
In the song, they wonder what their parents would think if they could see what their sons’ band has achieved, and it’s this sort of touching, big-hearted sentiment that lends the song a particular emotional resonance. This is an album that looks as much to the past as it does the future. The trio (completed by drummer Glen Power), despite their staggering success, have signalled on this album that they’ll never forget their roots.
It’s been 16 years since O’Donoghue and Sheehan came together in the struggling boyband MyTown, and 11 since The Script formed, but they took their time getting here, and it shows in the confidence that flows through the entire album. Give the Love Around and No Words prove that despite the band always having sought a slick pop sound, their melody-writing skills have come on considerably in the four years since they made an impact with We Cry. They’re the biggest success story this island has produced in the last few years, and despite their many begrudgers, their third album could win over a great number of people. In a chart dominated by David Guetta-produced knock-off Eurodance, we need great pop music – in all of its forms – more than we have in a long time, and The Script, uncool or not, clearly still have something to offer. In their case, the third time really is the charm.
#3 is out on Monday via Phonogenic/Sony.
