In interviews surrounding the record, Martin is on the defensive, eloquent (if still naïve) about embracing “stupidity.” “If you were allowed to be yourself, would the world be as aggressive as it is?” he asked The New YorkerAmanda Petrusich: “I think a lot about violence and conflict [in the world] it comes from suppression, suppression and uncirculated damage'. That's all the excuse Coldplay need to indulge in childish wonder. But big emotions don't have to mean simple, and childlike wonder doesn't have to mean regressing to the most common emotions possible. Then it's there hectare feelings: The most frequently heard words on this album are “la la” and about half the songs end in a wordless singalong. When Martin sings “La-la-lay/That's all, all I can say” on penultimate track “All My Love,” he's practically daring someone to go, yes Chris we know!
When Coldplay remember their strengths, they finish with their best material in years. “Jupiter” is a truly wonderful ode to a woman discovering her affection for other women: It's reflective in a way that Coldplay hasn't been around in a long time, the rare post-Ghost stories song to successfully return to the intimacy of their early work. (“Don't give up” means more when sung to one person than to 80,000.) “Aeterna” ditches the lyrics for an atmospheric dance shuffle, as bassist Guy Berryman overpowers Martin's digitally altered falsetto. Taking its cue from jazz eccentric Louis Cole's “Weird Part of the Night,” it's the kind of stylistic detour that makes you wonder why they're still enlisting the Chainsmokers to co-write a song called “GOOD FEELiNGS.”
This unpredictable quality control makes Coldplay frustrating to defend or rejection—for every questionable choice, there is one 6 minutes of nu-jazz vamp or classic prog-pop opus waiting in the corner. Only Coldplay would make a song called “🌈”, but only Coldplay would make it the most beautiful and probing song on the record. What starts out as another retread of “Fix You” gradually becomes blissful, as if Martin was listening to Cocteau Twins and Sigur Rós while making Parachutes instead of Jeff Buckley. So it's all the more aggravating when a song like “We Pray” fails to live up to its potential. Some of his choices are bold: a feature by Palestinian Chilean artist Elyanna and a name of Iranian protest song “Baraye”. Burna Boy and Little Simz do their best with entertaining guest appearances. But “We Pray” is once again full of “la la”s and simple feelings, so overloaded that there two alternate versions with different lyrics. The production falls completely flat: There are Imagine Dragons songs with louder 808s.
At their best, Coldplay are capable of things that no other act of their stature can do. There is enough charm Music of the Moon to show why they've lasted so long, because no bad hip-hop exercise or boring verse can stop their reign. Another bonus track, “The Karate Kid”, is as good a ballad as they've ever written. The lyrics are still gibberish on paper, and it's hard to know if the song's “Daniel” is an original character or its actual protagonist The Karate Kid. But the specifics don't matter: The song is a rare moment where Martin sits with a loved one's pain instead of trying to fix it, and so the inevitable dream-come-true lines feel earned. Or in the language of late Coldplay: They still remember that there is 🌧️ before 🌈.
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