advance warning: there are few people with whom i have long, excessively opinionated, fundamentally adolescent discussion about pop music. occasionally the PB and i talk about this, but his knowledge is too vast, and he analyzes sound and hears stuff i don’t know is there, talking about music with him is like talking about history with me – a bit academic. the only other person i had very long, agitated, throw-the-NME*-at-me talks about these things with is dead. so in many ways, if you are still reading, indulge me. this may not seem relevant to you, and you may not care at all about any of this, but understand this is just an echo of conversations i cannot have anymore. feel free to respond and tell me i know nothing about music and my opinion on coldplay is shite, since they’re barely a band, and why don’t i listen to real music, like some manchester band that’s not signed on to a label yet. it’s what she would have said.
i have often said that chris martin ruined coldplay (yesyesyes, i judge, bear with me, that’s the whole point). chris martin’s falsetto in X&Y was just tragic, horrible, and found it – still find it – incomprehensible that the band that went from ‘parachutes’ to ‘a rush of blood to the head’ could follow it up with such gunk. i blamed noone (not even gwyneth) for this, but i just did not want to hear them, so every time a song from the album played i mock-gagged and said coldplay sucks, please change the station.
and what did i download this morning from itunes?
wait for it. ………
the last coldplay single – viva la vida. yep, i did.
someone, somewhere, is laughing.
it’s the most enjoyable, light, pop anthem to summer – the lyrics are irrelevant – possibly about louis XVI losing his head on the guillotone, but i suspect it’s a thinly veiled attack on bush & co , whatever – still, it’s pure unadulterated ibiza pop, and on this sunny sunday, i loved it. it’s not orginal by a long shot. there’s an entire section at the beginning that was lifted from pet shop boys pop gloriousness – it took me all afternoon to figure out where those 20 seconds came from – a straight riff off ‘home and dry’ from the ‘release’ album. and at the end of the song chris martin oohs like bono at the end of a any one of U2’s stadium chargers. pure pop, oh and how fun it is. i had it on repeat all afternoon driving through the sun drenched oregon country side.
*NME = New Music Express. best pop music magazine ever.