Hey, magazines and newspapers and bigwig critics - can I ask you a favor? Could you all PLEASE stop referring to Coldplay as "The Next U2?" Pretty please? I mean, come on. I can hear a good amount of stadium-friendly grandeur in this band's music. I can see how they've made a seemingly personal connection with fans worldwide. And I acknowledge that they've been responsible for their share of summer anthems. But enough is enough already. I like U2, so it's not like I don't think this is a compliment to Coldplay. But aren't you all falling over yourselves to be the first to make such a declaration just a tad early? Some of you have even gone so far as to say Coldplay topped U2, and well, unless you just don't like U2 much, that's kind of a ridiculous statement. Even then, you'd have to realize the insane expectations that such a comment would put on Coldplay's third album, X&Y. Honestly, did you guys want to torpedo this album's chances before it even got out of the gate?

Now hey, don't take that the wrong way. I like Coldplay. I think they're a pretty good band. The thing is that "pretty good" doesn't equal to "transcendentally great" in my vocabulary. I was quite enchanted by the acoustics and atmospherics of their unassuming debut album, Parachutes. But, great album? No. I was thrilled by some of the expansive sounds that the band opened up to on A Rush of Blood to the Head, which contained some mesmerizingly addictive tunes that I still can't get enough of. But, great album? No again. Coldplay, thus far, have been masters of the good album. They know how to blend intimacy and loudness, methodical piano riffs and entrancing strokes of guitar, ironic moods and lovelorn lyrics in away that often produces some pretty fantastic songs. But lurking just on the other side, there's always a downer of an ordinary song, or worse, an ordinary-sounding song with a worse-than-ordinary lyric from the pen of Chris Martin, just waiting for its chance to kill the momentum. Sometimes the melody is just too plodding, doing nothing interesting right after I've been delighted by upwards of five minutes of pure musical enchantment. Sometimes the dour falsetto crooning is just too treacly for me to handle. And sometimes there's just that vague sense that this band dislikes the idea of putting any real oomph behind most of their songs. It can cause them to sound frustratingly methodical, and it can change my opinion of them from "Fabulous!" to "Eh, overrated" as quickly as Jennifer Garner changes disguises. Sorry, but that's not exactly the hallmark of a great band.

It seems that Coldplay has continued their borderline-four-star album trend with their latest, X&Y. Looking past the silly secret code gimmick that made for an amusingly low-tech album cover, there's surprisingly little mystery surrounding this album. Sure, the Brian Eno-influenced synthesizer beds on which a few of these songs float add an appropriate mood to their already fluffy and sweet brand of Britpop. And as always, they've managed to crank out some genuine emotional highs at the climax points of a few songs that seem to be a little better worded than the average high school diary. The album is actually front-loaded with songs that mostly stand among Coldplay's best work to date. But somewhere after that, it kind of falls apart, much like how A Rush didn't seem nearly as interesting in its second half, only more pronounced. It's this jumping back and forth between excellent and mediocre that leads me to settle on the halfway point of them being "pretty good". Not amazing. Not awful. Just notable in a pile of albums vying to make me feel nice. It's an effective formula. It does what it needs to do, and it shows sparks of creativity and keen pop sensibility in the meantime, as long as I ignore some of the utterly inane nursery rhymes of croony old Chris. I guess it's trendy to either hate or love this band, so I might be the odd man out by saying I merely kind of like X&Y, but oh well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Square One
Under the surface, trying to break through
Deciphering the codes in you
I need a compass, draw me a map
I'm on the top, I can't get back...
The band definitely plays their cards right by introducing us to their new sound in a way that causes an almost immediate emotional high (which, if you haven't figured it out by now, is their greatest strength). Very gentle synths are the first thing we hear, with Chris Martin's voice detached from a rhythm that hasn't appeared yet, informing us, "You're in control, is there anywhere you want to go?" Oh, take us to the happy place, Chris! And it's not long before the band does just that, as Will Champion breaks in with a danceable drum rhythm, which quickly morphs into a moving chorus with Jonny Buckland copping his best impression of The Edge with his zooming guitar riffs. Hey, a little Edge influence Is never a bad thing, but it seems kind of preposterous to label a newer band as better than an older one when the newer band is so liberally borrowing from the older one, isn't it? Never mind that; the fact is that this song is excellent. It's a song that tries so hard to take us somewhere we've never been, seeking to offer us a hope of getting past "the first line of the first page". Isn't that what emotional music is all about - escape? Chris knows that we just want "Somebody to listen to what you say", and this is where the band's combination of intimacy and grandeur combine so effectively - we've been flung into space at near-light speeds, and yet there's no noise or panic or chaos involved because our best buddy is right there with us. The tune finally mellows out at the end, temporarily fooling us into thinking a second song has begun as Chris inserts a lovely falsetto coda. Featuring some of the band's better lyrics, which work for me both emotionally and intellectually, all is right in the world of Coldplay with this track.

What If
Every step that you take
Could be your biggest mistake
It could bend or it could break
But that's the risk that you take...
Well, Coldplay now has something in common with Creed - they both have a track 2 called "What If". Anyway, this is one of those small-anthems-turned-big that I'd honestly be a lot more receptive to if it wasn't the second song. I realize that Coldplay is known for medium-to-slow anthems with soaring choruses, and that several of their best songs take a while to open up, but when this one floats in with its plaintive melody and stark piano, it's just way too soon for the straightforward quietness of it. It doesn't help that Chris is asking, "What if there was no light, no wrong and no right?" I mean, who died and made you John Lennon? It only gets more average from there with Chris sadly musing about what would happen if his special lady friend didn't want him there in her life. The fact that Chris goes about asking these questions in the most straightforward and un-poetic way possible is honestly quite irritating, and it's not until the song opens up later, with Jonny's smooth little guitar runs and the neat little bend in the chorus melody the second time they run through it and the refreshing tone of it all, that I start to really care about it. This is something that you put at track 6 or so, and I just don't get what the deal is with rock bands putting their big ballad or slow-burning anthem at track 2 these days.

White Shadows
Maybe you'll get what you wanted
Maybe you'll stumble upon it
Everything you ever wanted
In a permanent state...
Hey, Coldplay can do 80's! Well, sort of. The rubbery dance beat, just a hair too slow to do much of a dance to, but quick and confident enough to be charmingly geeky, stands out front and center in this quirky little lost-in-time rocker. Maybe "rocker" isn't such a hot description, but the mood here is definitely more mysterious and sweeping, kind of like a U2 epic trapped in between Achtung Baby and The Unforgettable Fire. The lyrics offer us a little something to unravel - namely, what are these white shadows that he keeps referring to, and what part do they play in the overall plan? I honestly can't say, but I can tell that colors mean something symbolic to Chris, as evidenced by the past songs "Yellow" and "Green Eyes". Maybe it's hidden in the weird album art, or maybe I'm just looking too hard for meaning in the abstract. But the abstractness is what I like about this song, and it's another tried-and-true emotional high right to the end, when the song melts into warm synth chords and a wide open plea for answers and the company of a lover - you know, the usual suspects.

Fix You
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse...
Now this is the right moment to whip out a show-stopping ballad. It's also a much better example of building from small to big than "What If" was. The theme here is definitely one of comfort, as Chris's pretty boy voice (I make fun of him, but I really do like it on this track) sympathetically addresses someone who feels like a total failure and who is "Stuck in reverse". There's a theme to hang on to - the notions of going backwards and forwards seem to trickle throughout this album. It's a while before we hear an instrument other than the sublime organ (or whatever it is) that Chris got from his father-in-law by way of his wife, Gwyneth Paltrow. (Despite suspecting that a number of these songs were written with her in mind, it's still disarmingly easy to imagine he's talking specifically to you, isn't it?) It's about halfway through, after the oddly assuring promise that "Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you" that the song really takes off, with shimmering guitar runs picking up the pace, drums crashing like tidal waves, and all four guys singing in harmony about tears streaming down your face. See guys, I was able to retain my composure until you started singing about crying. But like the best crying songs go, there's a cathartic value instead of that release, and the beauty comes from the presence of crying, not the absence of it. The song finally calms down with one final chorus taking it back to the level it started at, and it's just left hanging without any sort of a big finish. It took a few listens for me to really get into this one, but now I think it's the album's best track, and I'm sure it will clobber the competition when it hits radio. (So you'll all be sick of it about six months from now.)

Talk
So you take a picture of something you see
In the future, where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or a write a song nobody has sung
Or do something that's never been done...
The 80's influence comes back again - this time in the form of a snippet of a Kraftwerk song that the band so politely borrowed - and we get the last of the most obviously "rocking" songs on this album. (It's as rock as Coldplay gets, in that Jonny Buckland is quite the guitar hero, but despite the wall of sound they try to create, it's all still so mannered and pristine and not ragged like rock & roll usually is.) This song addresses a communication breakdown of sorts, a sense of alienation due to everyone around Chris talking at him but not really being able to relate. Here, he's pleading with a friend who seems similarly lost, simply asking him to open up and talk. He basically says the same thing using a lot of different metaphors here ("You can take a picture of something you see", etc.), and while the plea for true connection with another human being is compelling, I kind of find myself wishing for a more enigmatic lyric to go with a musical backdrop that once again recalls the ironic heroism of Achtung Baby.

X&Y
I dive in at the deep end
You become my best friend
I wanna love you, but I don't know if I can...
I really want to get excited about this title track. It seems to want to instill a sense of vertigo in me, as its uneasy melody teeters over the abyss as a slurred guitar melody warns of the danger of falling. The melody might have some potential if the song itself didn't plod along so slowly, with the drums kind of thumping away powerlessly as Chris whines about trying to fix something that's broken (hey, another theme! Or is it just lyrical laziness?) What started as somewhat eerie turns into a lot more crooning, mostly just for the sake of singing high and sounding pretty - a line like "You and me are floating on a tidal wave" might have some hidden irony to it given what was going on in the world when the album was being written, but it comes off too gentle and the song gets too repetitive for the ominous feeling to really sink in. The title "X&Y" was supposed to refer to the "answers", as Chris Martin explained it - in math classes, the answers were always X and Y. (Actually, those were just the variables, and their values were often the answers, but let's not get picky.) By the time the song ends and Chris has carefully enunciated a lot of sweet "Ooooooooohhh"s, it's easy to feel enraptured, but also quite empty when you realize that what just transpired doesn't seem to mean a whole hell of a lot.

Speed of Sound
Ideas that you'll never find
All the inventors could never design
The buildings that you put up
Japan and China, all lit up...
Yep, there it is. "Clocks, Part 2". Hey, I loved the original so much, so why shouldn't I mind the new album's first single referencing it so blatantly? I tried to fight the good fight on this one, figuring that people were just looking for excuses to criticize Coldplay because they dreaded another overplayed single. I tried to insist that this one wasn't a ripoff of "Clocks", my favorite Coldplay song ever, with its pounding, all-encompassing piano triplets. Then I listened to the song a few times, and quickly conceded the battle. Sure, they subdued the piano, but it's still the main link to the song's chord sequence, which follows that same interval of starting high, dropping down, staying there for two measures, and then dropping down again, and then repeating. To be fair, it's only the verse, and the band relies more on bass and drums to propel the verse (in which the vocal melodies and lyrical patterns are also a dead ringer for "Clocks"). The chorus, while not possessing one of Coldplay's stronger hooks, definitely brings in the outer space factor with its zippy guitars and electronic twiddling and Chris singing, "Birds go flying at the speed of sound". It all sounds pretty good, and it'll be an interesting lyric to mull over, with them theme of up and down and backwards and forwards coming to the forefront again and the music adding to that feeling that the hands of the clock are spinning quickly and not going in the same direction. Unfortunately, I just can't get past the self-plagiarism on this one.

A Message
Your heavy heart is made of stone
And it's so hard to see you clearly
You don't have to be on your own...
Enter dry acoustic guitar strumming. Then enter Chris Martin's weary voice, daring to sing something as inane as "My song is love", only to pause and let us reflect on the utter inanity of it, before continuing with one of his most plodding and boring songs ever. If that pattern of having an encompassing wall of sound followed by an utterly boring acoustic tune sounds familiar, it's because it's what happened on A Rush when "Green Eyes" followed "Daylight". Except this one's worse, because it lacks the syncopation and at metaphors that are at least semi-interesting that we found in "Green Eyes". This is just pure, unadulterated treacle. It's embarrassing, and no matter how earnestly he sings about wanting to drive home a message of love to someone whom he's hurt and trying to apologize to, it just does nothing for me, even when the band tries to turn it into a soaring anthem midway through. I'm sure that the phrase "My song is love unknown" will spark some interesting discussions on the "Are they or aren't they?" front, given that it's the title of a hymn and Coldplay has ever-so-vague spiritual metaphors running through several of their songs. But for the most part, my only reaction to this one is as follows: Shut up, Mr. Paltrow.

Low
All you ever wanted to be
Living in perfect symmetry
Nothing is as down or old as us...
One of the tracks in this album's desolate back half was supposed to be like, the band's tribute to R.E.M. or something like that. For some reason I keep thinking of this track, but no, there's not enough of the jangle factor here, so maybe it's the next one. (But didn't R.E.M. have a song called "Low"? Anyway, whatever.) This might be one of the few songs where I find myself really noticing Guy Berryman's bass, as the constant bum-bum-bum provides a fluid rhythm for what seems to be a rather half-hearted rock song. I like the descending chord progression in the verses - it's simple but it sticks in the head. But something doesn't quite seem to be on about the band here - maybe I was just turned off by the white/light/right/might rhyme in the first stanza, or maybe I didn't need to hear Chris's falsetto encouraging me, "You should tryyyyyyyyy..." after I've already heard about ten different iterations of "You won't know until you try" inserted into other songs earlier in the album. The declaration that "I feel low!" in the song's bridge kind of kills the crescendo there, too. So that leaves the weird clanging of bells in between the first chorus and second verse as one of the few interesting elements of this song. It's tolerable and even enjoyable at times, but it doesn't stand out as something I'd miss if it weren't here.

The Hardest Part
Everything I know is wrong
Everything I do just comes undone
And everything is torn apart...
To balance out that low feeling, a jaunty, upbeat (but not too fast) piano-laden song is up next, playing it entirely straight and major key and honestly, rather lacking in personality. This song is basically Chris playing the loner geek, lamenting something fun that he can't be a part of - could be a relationship with a pretty girl, or it could be an after-school pick-up game of cricket, for all I know. (He does mention waiting for a bell to ring - you do the math.) Despite the jaunty, breezy melody, the lyrics quickly turn to despair, committing the cardinal sin of pop songs by talking about things that come undone. There's just nothing much for me to latch on to as the song runs its course and fades out even more unassumingly than it began.

Swallowed in the Sea
And I could write a book, the one they'll say that shook
The world, and then it took, it took it back from me
And I could write it down, and spread it all around
Get lost and then get found, and you'll come back to me...
And here we have the worst of the lot - nearly ten seconds of dead air lead into a song with Chris's voice and little else at the beginning, singing a melody where he gets to stretch the last syllable of each line in a rather croaky fashion that does no favors to his naked voice. Apparently this was one of the first songs the band worked on for the album, and despite having over 60 in the round that they had to throw out, they got the idea that it would be good to keep this one. Again, we've got a boring and mind-numbingly repetitive melody that runs on and on and on long after my interest in it has been worn out, and the band tries to perk it up with another predictable crescendo. All the while, Chris is playing it to the hilt in terms of his God-given right to mix metaphors, to the point where you don't care about what the sea is or why a girl would cut down a tree and bring it to him or whatever, because you're just gripping the sides of your aching head and thinking: Shut up, Apple's dad.

Twisted Logic
Hundreds of years in the future
There could be computers looking for life on earth
Don't fight for the wrong side
Say what you feel like, say how you feel...
Now this is more like it. While I don't like the muted, cold start, with Chris's voice once again hanging out in the ether, I absolutely adore the bent melody of this song. It's like taking the melody to a more pleasant song that comes with a wistful 3/4-time rhythm attached (for some reason, I'm thinking of a praise song called "Jesus, Name Above All Names", not that most folks would recognize that, but it's a weird enough similarity to really throw me for a loop) and twisting it out of shape to give it a really eerie feeling. Thankfully, the band saved one of their better lyrics for last, veering closer to Radiohead territory (not that this is the first time by any means) for a song that, by their own admission, is not about girls or friends. It's about computers taking over the world. Or the environment drying up. Or something like that. Honestly, I don't even know any more. But it's creepy in all the right ways, taking the eerie nature of a song like "A Rush of Blood to the Head" and doing it one better. The chorus is a dense, fiery explosion of guitars, with Coldplay not being afraid to sound a teeny bit harsh for a change (I guess they save it for their political songs, because they haven't slammed and swelled like this since "Politik"). Over the maelstrom, Chris passionately cries "You'll go backwards! But then! You'll go forwards! And then!" and so on, ad infinitum. For once the repetition makes sense, bringing back that directionally confused theme that I mentioned earlier and making it really seem like we're stuck in that timewarp, about to end up back at square one again despite our best attempts to evolve. Some strings join the fray, and at the end of the song, they're all that's left, until synths creep up and knock out the last glowing light bulb with an authoritative smack.

'Til Kingdom Come
And the wheels just keep on turning
The drummer begins to drum
I don't know which way I'm going
I don't know which way I've come...
Consider this the hidden track that almost wasn't. Coldplay originally wrote this song for Johnny Cash, who was apparently slated to record it before he passed away. Not surprisingly, it's much more acoustic in nature, and truly an odd fit with the rest of the album, which sort of justifies its spot as a hidden track, I guess. The quick, light strumming of one acoustic guitar while another picks out he melody line is probably the most countrified thing you'll ever hear from the band (live versions of "Don't Panic" with harmonica notwithstanding), which makes sense in the context of Cash's legacy. I can't say that the band wrote the most brilliant lyrics for Mr. Cash; they're more or less about waiting around for someone for as long as it takes for them to come back. Tune out Chris's rather unassuming vocal performance on this one, and you can mentally insert Cash's tattered voice, picturing how it would have sounded - as much as I admit to not having been a huge fan of that voice, I think it would have worked wonders here, if sung from the perspective of a traveler weary for home. Chris Martin, God bless him for trying, just doesn't quite have the chops to fill those big shoes, so while it works alright as a tribute, the effect is going to be lost on anyone who doesn't know the song's backstory.

Man, I hate to admit having such a love/hate relationship with X&Y. But much like one of its recurring themes, it seems to be a directionally confused album, unsure of whether it wants to go forward into more textured and experimental territory, or backward into the tried and true method of crooning and swooning. Playing off of emotions is OK when you've got the musical and lyrical chops to back it up - and the band clearly does on several tracks, so I just don't know what the deal is with the rest of 'em. I think X&Y is worth owning for the tracks that really expand Coldplay's repertoire, and those are enough to give me a generally positive impression, but the album has also maintained Coldplay's history of being long on promise and short on satisfying content. At this point I might have to say that Parachutes is their best album, by a matter of small degrees, and that one doesn't even feel like a full album at times, but it's definitely their most consistent and entrancing piece of work. I'd follow that up with A Rush of Blood to the Head, and then this one just barely coming out at the bottom. You could really start anywhere if you're new to Coldplay, and you'll likely find X&Y to be worthwhile if you're an existing fan. I just think they're one of those bands that still has their masterpiece lurking inside of them - and it'll probably only come out when neither the band nor the professional critics chomping at the bit to find the Next Big Thing (TM) think that it has.

ALBUM WORTH:
Square One $2
What If $1
White Shadows $2
Fix You $2
Talk $1
X&Y $.50
Speed of Sound $1
A Message $0
Low $.50
The Hardest Part $0
Swallowed in the Sea -$.50
Twisted Logic $1.50
'Til Kingdom Come $.50
TOTAL: $11.50

Band Members:
Chris Martin: Lead vocals, piano
Jonny Buckland: Guitar, backing vocals
Will Champion: Drums, backing vocals
Guy Berryman: Bass, backing vocals

Website: http://www.coldplay.com

Great Music to Play While: Playing games on your Atari and wondering where your childhood went.

Recommended: Yes