Coldplay (The Kool Haus, May 11)

With Coldplay barely having left the stage and 2,000-plus filing into an unseasonably chilly Toronto night, a gentleman was handing out stickers commemorating the event. Someday, he advised, we'd show them to our grandchildren.

The line wasn't scripted by the band's handlers, but it might as well have been. "Something To Tell Your Grandchildren" was the unofficial theme of this week's whirlwind three-day visit: As Britpop's reigning kings made the rounds, from live radio and TV performances to countless media interviews to Wednesday's buzz show, we were effectively being told it was a chance to see history in the making - a very big band in the process of becoming massive.

With their third album, X&Y, Coldplay are being called upon to best the success of A Rush of Blood to the Head, save their record label, and begin supplanting U2 as the world's biggest band.

What Wednesday's show proved, if nothing else, is this is not a band in danger of caving in under the potentially crippling pressure - and that's largely thanks to Coldplay's rock-steady front man.

If there's one thing we're learning about Chris Martin, it's that he's always in control. He's in control in the studio, directing the band to meet his vision. In control with the media, effortlessly charming without saying a word he'll regret. In control of his personal life, managing fatherhood and a celebrity marriage without losing focus and avoiding alcohol, drugs and other excesses entirely. And now more than ever, he's thoroughly in control on stage.

It's not that his bandmates are just along for the ride. Guitarist Johnny Buckland gladly plays The Edge to Martin's Bono, not just in the U2-inspired guitar chords but in confidence and charisma, and drummer Will Champion provides a bit of much-needed testosterone. But from the moment Martin belatedly emerged to the screams of female admirers, striding to the front of the stage to greet the crowd and then taking to his keyboard to join Square One (X&Y's lead track) in progress, it was clear who the star was.

From the start, the eager-to-please, intermittently hyperactive lead singer had the crowd - heavily female, but not overwhelmingly so - in his pocket. That's no mean feat for a front man who spends at least half his time at the piano, but Martin has come into his own as the consummate showman - bouncing around, gesturing to the crowd, doing everything he can to work it into a tizzy. That wasn't always possible on previously unheard new songs, but his frenzied late-set delivery of Clocks brought the show to a suitably epic crescendo.

When freed from his keyboard, Martin was even better. Having adopted all the poses he'll need to impress audiences in the larger venues Coldplay will hit this summer, he's part rock star, part crooner - spinning about and sidling up next to Buckland with guitar in hand, or taking to the front of the stage empty-handed to induce sing-alongs and lure hands into the air. On record, songs like In My Place sound more like easy-listening radio fodder; live, Martin and his bandmates - helped by spiffy lights and a superior sound mix - turn them into full-out stadium anthems.

What's most exciting for the band's admirers, though, is that its current stage power may only be a starting point.

As far as he's come, Martin still has room to grow. If there's a criticism of his live persona, it's a lack of spontaneity. Every move seems well-rehearsed, and even apparently out-of-the-blue verses from the Arcade Fire's Rebellion (Lies) and Nine Inch Nails' Hurt had a certain calculated quality. What remains is for him to better translate the easy-going, self-deprecating charm he exhibits off stage.

More promising still is that, once audiences have grown accustomed to them, unfamiliar X&Y tracks that served as speed bumps Wednesday could take the live act to new levels. While on record the new disc comes off a little overbearing, every song building to an overwrought crescendo, the sheer power of songs like A Message and Fix You (both served up in the encore) could eventually blow less ambitious standbys like Yellow out of the water.

The history of heavily hyped U.K. acts tells us this is the point where something goes awry. But Coldplay's consistently evolving stage presence belies what everyone around the band knows - that behind all the affability is a cool-headed plan to conquer the world. We may yet tell the grandkids that we saw them when they were halfway there.