Review Summary: Dull and dreary band is dull and dreary. Some moments of brilliance fail to save an ultimately average attempt at broadening Coldplay's horizons.
“Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah they were all yellow,
I came along
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called yellow”
If there’s one positive thing you could say about Coldplay, it’s that they always sound honest. No matter how many times anyone attacks Chris Martin for being completely up himself, the words of that song still ring true every time I hear them. Throughout the monotony that has plagued much of their career, the sincerity with which the simplistic musical and lyrical ideas are delivered has mostly excused their lack of progression from album to album.
With this in mind, it seems to be a daring move for Coldplay to abandon their simplistic, downbeat, piano-driven ballads and move onto a grand, soundscape-like creation such as this. Chris Martin could be smothered with praises for the amount of ground he covers throughout the album, as far as instrumentation is concerned. The first two songs stand out as two of Coldplay’s best tracks – [i]Life in Technicolour{/i] is driven by an uplifting acoustic guitar hook, backed by a colourful, part-synthesized orchestra, building with every repeating bar until it suddenly drifts away into the beautiful
Cemetries of London. The dream-inducing instrumentation consists of a simple drum machine, a variety of guitars, both acoustic and electric, not to mention a whole host of synthesizer effects, all of which combine perfectly to carry you away to another place entirely whilst Chris Martin’s smooth, mid-range voice soothes you and absorbs you at the same time. With the groundwork now set, Coldplay had the chance to create something near a modern alt-pop masterpiece. Needless to say, it was not to be.
Whether it was Coldplay’s desire to expand their musical horizons or just Chris Martin’s hit-and-miss songwriting ability, somewhere along the line they messed up. Beginning with the very next song,
Lost, a severe dip in quality makes the album difficult to really enjoy for most of the remainder of it’s 45-minute running time – the beautiful synths and ambience on the first two tracks are overdone to the point of severe boredom, and Chris Martin’s smooth tone doesn’t so much grate as it does drag. The signature Coldplay sound is still there, but the songs as a whole feel directionless, ambling about aimlessly whilst Chris Martin tries hopelessly to sound sincere and poetic over dull, multi-layered orchestral backings (not to mention the gated drum effect that occasionally rears its head). It’s difficult to say that the album accomplishes much for Coldplay as, while it may not be a step back in terms of exploration of new sounds, it feels like all ambition, no effort.
One final song manages to break the mould, however –
Violet Hill feels like everything the rest of the album was meant to be, simultaneously summing-up and breaking from the mould that the rest of the album sets for it. Driven by marching piano chords, emotion-ridden vocals which range from falsetto harmonisation to soft, low-pitch, reverb laden murmurs and a repeating fuzz of an electric guitar line, it towers over every other track on the album, and contends as one of Coldplay’s best songs. Of course, the usual orchestral arrangements show up, but they are focused and effective, unlike the needless plod that plagues the rest of the album.
In a sense, it would be fair to say that Coldplay have created an album of mostly experimental filler – a step away from their works, but still too familiar to achieve anything above average when taken as a whole, despite the moments when everything pulls together and creates something special. Not bad, necessarily, but dull and drawn-out, making this an album that’s easy enough to leave well alone.
