Review - Coldplay's
- A Rush of Blood to the Head

-by Christian B. Carey, Ph.D.

There. That's better.

Mention Coldplay and Yellow, the hit single off of their debut album, 2000's Parachutes, is likely to spring to mind. Its ubiquity as a summer hit no doubt fueled enough hype to garner the band its Grammy. Nevertheless, even the most jaded indie rock fan has to admit that Yellow is an infectiously catchy song with a terrific hook, all the more so when set in contrast with the rest of Parachutes, a solid but improbably mellow batch of understated fare. While fellow Anglo-pop travelers Travis, Elbow, and South have all been accused filling their albums with far too much mid-tempo balladry for their own good (or for their careers to really break large), Parachutes outdoes all of their combined output in terms of unremitting andante. While none of the songs on the record merited dislike, there wasn't a heck of a lot, apart from Yellow, that reached out of the speakers and grabbed one. In fact, Travis' last effort, Sing, did a much better job of sustaining the listener's interest for the length of a spin in the changer. It is unfortunate that the album failed to garner one scintilla of the interest that Yellow acquired for Coldplay.

A Rush of Blood to the Head, Coldplay's second full-length, improves upon some of Parachutes' shortcomings and perpetuates others. On the positive side of the ledger, there are a lot more hooks on Rush of Blood than on their previous release. While MTV et. al. seem to be pushing The Scientist as single-worthy material, there are a number of songs from the album that could vie against it, In My Place and Daylight noteworthy among them. And Clocks apes a certain Irish quartet so skillfully that, if Bono had guested on vocals, you'd swear it was their single, if you catch my drift.

Indeed, a number of the touches applied to the arrangements seem a bit self-consciously studied - in addition to Clocks being an obvious crib, the riff that opens the album on Politik reeks of Oasis, and Daylight's little faux-sitar allusion seems a bit more Fab Four than necessary and actually detracts from the rest of an otherwise lovely song. It seems as if Coldplay were trying to ward off the dreaded sophomore slump by invoking every patron saint of Britpopdom along the way, and they are far too good a band to need to wear their influences as outerwear.

Two nagging problems that were present on Parachutes persist. The first: far too many of the songs are once again delivered mid-tempo - the band never takes the chance to play something REALLY slowly or let it cook. In the end, this gives Rush of Blood a similarly staid and occasionally cloying demeanor, despite the fact that the songs are indeed strong compositions and deserve better. The second issue is just inexcusable, especially given the ready availability of all manner of pitch-modulating resources in today's recording studios: the vocals are frequently out of tune, sometimes egregiously so. Next time, croon in tune, fellows. While pop musicians often do not feel the need to study formally, these intonation difficulties, coupled with the cancellation of many of Coldplay's US concert dates last year due to their lead vocalist's 'laryngitis,' might suggest that a few lessons on breath support might be advisable.

It is to be hoped that Coldplay will continue writing and recording. Criticisms aside, I look forward to their third album, hoping that its execution will be a bit more skillfully done, with less anxious backward glances at influences, and more forward thinking about how to best represent the next batch of strongly individual songs.

-Dr. Christian Carey. New Jersey. October 15, 2002.