Some anecdotal evidence that OneRepublic is 2008-quality huge, even if it isn't moving U2 units: Both my wife and my mother-in-law have "Apologize" ringtones. Like peers the Fray, this Colorado-based band blow bumper-sticker sized emotions and clichés up into billboard-width anthems: Electric and acoustic guitars are lacquered within an inch of their lives, pianos and keyboards enable universalized anthems and stadium-ready hooks. Having photogenic Ryan Tedder front and center as lead singer doesn't hurt matters; he projects a passionate blandness that's difficult to resist, in a Daniel Powter/Coldplay sense. So OneRepublic—God, even its name suggests a meaningless utopian otherverse that doubles as an all-encompassing Starbucks outlet, or something—numb, narcotize, placate. And if you're honest with yourself, you'll accept that they'll probably never be any more famous than they are right now; a thousand comers in the same Adult Contemp Lite vein are waiting in the wings, just waiting to snare an MOR crown that never gathers dust. With Augustana, the Spill Canvas, and the Hush Sound.
Thu., Oct. 30, 5 p.m., 2008
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