Pop Music Review : Ireland’s Cranberries: Green in Concert but Room to Grow

During the Cranberries’ concert at the Wiltern Theatre on Tuesday, singer Dolores O’Riordan frequently turned her microphone toward the audience, acknowledging and encouraging the overwhelming enthusiasm of her very vocal following.

It was appropriate--this was a concert in which the fans’ performance was more intriguing than the band’s.

Not that the Irish group isn’t pretty good. O’Riordan and her three bandmates are a distinctive, promising young act, and the frontwoman’s songs are often hypnotic in their imagery and aura, carried by her frequently stunning array of vocal skips, trills and purrs.

But the roars of devotion that greeted the group seemed appropriate for an act that had been around for decades, the emotion with which fans sang along on almost every song was suited to certified anthems, and the worship that accompanied O’Riordan’s every move should have been reserved for a true force of nature.

C’mon, folks!

For all its qualities, this band--with just two albums under its belt--has a lot of growing to do before achieving iconhood, especially as a live act.

There’s no denying the catchy, romantic attraction of last year’s big hits “Linger” and “Dreams.” And Tuesday, the first of two sold-out nights at the Wiltern, several songs from the new “No Need to Argue” album emerged as strong additions.

“Ode to My Family” offers warm, winning memories of familial strength--a nice counterpoint to today’s many songs about childhood neglect and abuse (e.g., Sinead O’Connor, the most natural comparison for O’Riordan). “Zombie,” performed with the stage bathed in bright red light, makes a forceful plea to end Ireland’s history of violence.

But otherwise there was little sense of drama in the show, nothing to illuminate or expand upon the lyrical imagery. O’Riordan is a charmingly awkward presence, but much of the time she just looked as if she didn’t know what to do with herself, either standing stiffly with a guitar almost as big as she, or moving uncertainly about the stage.

So what was all the fuss about?

Like, say, Counting Crows, the Cranberries’ mix of restless romanticism and sophisticated melodiousness has spanned generations, striking a chord with young alternative fans and more sedate Boomers. O’Riordan also fills a valuable slot as a strong female presence in the still male-dominated world of pop heroes.

And don’t forget the Irish factor--Celtophiles are a notoriously rabid bunch that will glom on to anything that emerges from the Emerald Isle.

Passion is to be encouraged, but hey, Cranberries fans--give the group some time to develop before you overwhelm it with adoration.