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Coldplay - 'X & Y' (EMI) Released 06/06/05

Playing 12 dates across the nation this autumn...

half starno starno starno starno star
three stars
 
Coldplay - X&YThe nation breathes a sigh of relief, Coldplay release another album to massive fanfares, hype and marketing and thank god they’ve not bothered to break any boundaries, what the hell would we do with ourselves if that was to happen? It’s their third album yet they’ve still not managed to break their stride - Coldplay’s determination to sound like Coldplay is stronger than ever.
 
U2 took about seven albums to become predictable and that was via ‘Achtung Baby’, ‘Zooropa’ and other minor diversions. Yet for all the obviousness you will find in a Coldplay album you can’t but respect Chris Martin’s ability to write a song. If there was ever a soul alive that could resurrect the dire doldrums of Embrace’s career it was Martin and with the same self assurance and bloody mindedness he leads his merry men headlong into album chart success with a string of obviousness.
 
As easy as it would be to point fingers and laugh at their ability to cooperate with EMI’s accountants and deliver a plethora of daytime radio fodder, you can’t deny a man’s skill at crafting fine beauty such as opener ‘Square One’ with its soaring choruses and driving beat. Don’t get us wrong, no ground is being broken here, but this is an album album, one you need to hear from start to finish, probably more than once (shock), to get the best from it.
 
‘Fix You’ and its soul-searching poignancy is a joy to behold, yet there are weak points, like the mind bendingly simplistic ‘What If’ and teenage lyricism of ‘A Message’ which grate in an expectantly Coldplayistic manner.
 
Yet these transgressions can be forgiven, at least until we’re sick of ‘Speed Of Sound’ and Embrace’s probable cast off ‘Swallowed In The Sea’, because despite the ease at which we can poke fun at Mr Paltrow and the photos of him jogging in embarrassingly bad Bermuda shorts, The ‘Play have a longevity that very few bands of their era have. Why? Fuck knows, there’s certainly too much piano going on here for anyone outside Elton John’s entourage’s liking and they are certainly more MOR than a painted dashed white line. Yet they’re still not and never will be in the same despisable bedwetting league as Keane and in this genre of likable mainstream indie, that is certainly something to be heralded.

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