OTTAWA - It was not hard to see why the uber-hip Brit band Coldplay generates as much hype and hysteria as U2, the band they're most often compared to, last night at Scotiabank Place.

Women. Lots and lots of women. Glammed up and gorgeous, they were everywhere last night, making up most of the sellout crowd of 15,000 there to see the thinking woman's boy band. Why all these women made Coldplay's scene was easy -- who else is as cute and writes about women and relationships as affectionately as Coldplay did in their 90-minute set?

No one, not even U2.

Fronted by the laconic, doe-eyed Martin with "the other guys," guitarist Jonny Buckland, bassist Guy Berryman and drummer Will Champion, the band melted hearts with a gorgeously romantic set of 18 tunes, primarily from 2005's X&Y and their seminal 2002 release A Rush of Blood to the Head.

Looking slightly mottled, Martin's unkempt shaggy-haired and unshaven puppy-dog vulnerability caused loud keening female wails when he first came on stage.

Martin and company opened with Square One and Politik during which Martin leaped athletically, and posed dramatically across the large, bare stage before settling in behind the piano while cosmic fireworks exploded on the video bank behind the muscular Champion.

It was a spellbinding way to kick things off and hinted at a performance as tightly choreographed as it was reckless and spontaneous.

On the thundering Yellow, giant yellow balloons filled with sparkles fell from the rafters, much to the joy of the fans at ice-level.

And ever the diplomat, Martin dedicated God Put a Smile On Your Face to one of his favourite bands, Montreal's Arcade Fire.

Afterwards, he apologized for his shaggy mop of hair, joking that if anyone was disappointed, they could get a $2 rebate off their ticket.

While it wasn't the funniest line I've heard a frontman crack, Martin was certainly one of the more endearing. Downright polite and un-rock-star like.

Of course, it's almost become fashionable to dis Coldplay for emasculating pop-rock and sending it to sensitivity therapy.

Nothing could be further from the truth, that is, unless you think that soft-rock and intelligent lyrics married to plaintive melodies is just for wussies.

Even if they have been a little too mellow in the past, the band, who are only now just peaking, proved that they can rock with the best of them on Speed of Sound, White Shadows and their rallying cry Clocks.

It was easy to see the similar genetic material of their songs. Each one fit the one before and the one following it like a puzzle.

Ultimately, the show fell upon the charismatic Martin, who often appeared alone on stage, at the piano, pounding out The Scientist while the audience sang the chorus like a British soccer anthem.

He winded things down with a cover of Ring of Fire dedicated to Roy Orbison, while encoring with Swallowed in the Sea and For You in which Martin sang from the other end of the rink, and finally, the funereal Fix You.

"Thanks for giving us your Friday night," Martin said.

You're most welcome, old chap, we must do this again sometime.

Opening for Coldplay was former Verve frontman Richard Ashcroft. Ever charming and slightly eccentric, Ashcroft's set was heavy on symphonically-proportioned, trance-inducing R&B ballads including Lucky Man, Bittersweet Symphony and Sly Stone's Thank You (For Lettin' Me be Myself Again), sounding gothically funky like something Prince might have done with The Moody Blues.