In truth, Lady A doesn't live up to the adoration they're attracting, although that's not to say they aren't an impressively talented trio. Their songwriting excellence puts them in position to go far; the early rendition of "Love Don't Live Here" is a fine example, for those who could hear it. They're also enjoying the advantage of being the flavor of the month, played to death by both country and adult contemporary radio and they have the resources to provide plenty of flash in shows, as with the array of laser light bars behind them on stage.Thus ended the country portion of the evening. Between sets, the Rascal Flatts corporation unveiled a whole new way to be annoying, broadcasting from backstage two painfully chipper hosts who blabbered nonstop through both breaks while a stream of text messages from fans crawled across the screen with such profound words of love for their favorite boy band as "I'm your biggest fan," "You guys are soooo cute," "We love you and "Your my favorite band." Revolting.If there's anything more painful than their music, from the bubble gum of "These Days" to the counterfeit country of "Mayberry," it's their contrived conversations, at one point hamming it up and showing off at center stage while Jay DeMarcus noodled around on piano, teasing the audience to choose what he should play, Bob Seger's "Old-Time Rock'n'Roll" or the Flatts' hit "Bless The Broken Road." It's hard to picture Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear to these guys, but really no harder than accepting Rascal Flatts as country stars.