Critical Voices: The Script, #3

As a judge on The Voice UK, The Script front man Danny O’Donoghue ought to fully understand the difference between passable music and efforts that don’t quite measure up. Unfortunately, this logical assumption does not hold; the London-based outfit swung for the fences and grounded into third on its arrogantly entitled LP #3.

“Good Ol’ Days” kicks off the album with O’Donoghue’s four high-pitched kick drum-and-clap-backed “whoo-hoo”s, which annoyingly become more frequent as the track wears on. The song itself is an all too repetitive and stereotypical carpe diem-themed rap filled with pub crawls, drinking, and dancing in the rain.

The equally hackneyed “Give the Love Around,” highlighted by a bright violin melody, fails as well. Detailed lists in the chorus which outline all the people deserving of love become tedious, and place the track in immediate danger of being skipped.

The self-betterment anthem “Hall of Fame,” which opens with pleasant piano runs and a will.i.am verse, stands just above the rest of the album’s overwhelming mediocrity. Members of The Script have little to do with the track’s success, aside from the scaling down of the omnipresent “whoo-hoo”s; in fact, O’Donoghue manages to partly ruin the song with a list of professions in which the listener can succeed. In the end, “Hall of Fame” is will.i.am’s track. His inclusion gives just enough legitimacy to an otherwise poorly crafted single.

A personal touch from O’Donoghue and guitarist Mark Sheehan on “Six Degrees of Separation” nearly puts #3 on the path to recovery. The lead singer’s strained vocals provide a powerful account of his breakup with model Irma Mali which, when accompanied by strings, a series of keyboard melodies, and guitar riffs, results in a proper mainstream rock song.

Sheehan’s “If You Could See Me Now,” dedicated to the guitarist’s late parents, similarly adds much-needed emotional appeal to the LP. “I don’t know if we will ever find the right moment to play that live,” Sheehan said, unable to even listen to the song due to its personal nature.

This inability to listen to a single song can, for the most part, be extrapolated to The Script’s third studio album as a whole, but in a far more negative manner. Stuffed with clichés and left to simmer on a light hip-hop beat for 39 minutes, #3 is a largely forgettable record.