“Hello, Teignmouth!” yelled Matt Bellamy, geekily smiling as thousands of arms were raised aloft in greeting.
This must be every band’s secret fantasy: taking over their hometown to perform a triumphant open-air tamasha in front of family, friends, schoolteachers and (one imagines) bullies and detractors.
Especially for a trio of nerdy outsiders such as Muse, who have stealthily crept from critically degraded, sci-fi-obsessed Radiohead acolytes to super-slick, bombastic space-rockers poised on the precipice of global superstardom. Success is the best revenge.
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