X&Y in Bloomington, MN

After
Radiohead
stubbornly refused to accept the mantle of world's biggest and most important
rock
band by releasing the willfully strange rocktronica fusion
Kid A
in 2000,
Coldplay
stepped up to the plate with their debut,
Parachutes
. Tasteful, earnest, introspective, anthemic, and grounded in guitars, the British quartet was everything
weren't but what the public wanted them to be, and benefited from the Oxford quintet's decision to abandon
stardom for arcane
art rock
.
became a transatlantic hit and 2002's sequel,
A Rush of Blood to the Head
, consolidated their success by being bigger and better than
, positioning
to not be just the new
, but the new
U2
: a band that belongs to the world but whose fans believe that the music is for them alone. To that end,
's third album,
X&Y
-- slightly delayed so it follows
Rush of Blood
by nearly three years, but that's no longer than the time separating
OK Computer
and
, or
The Unforgettable Fire
The Joshua Tree
-- is designed to be the record that elevates
to the major leagues, where they are at once the biggest and most important band in the world. It's deliberate and sleek, cinematic and pristine, hip enough to sample
Kraftwerk
and blend in fashionable retro-'80s
post-punk
allusions without altering the band's core. Indeed,
is hardly a bold step forward but rather a consolidation of
's strengths, particularly their skill at crafting surging, widescreen epics. But if
highlights their attributes it also brings
's weaknesses into sharp relief. Forget the fact that they, by any stretch of the imagination, do not rock -- rocking is simply against their nature. They are a meditative band, reflecting on their emotions instead of letting them go in a cathartic blast of noise and rhythm. This isn't a problem -- after all, there have been plenty of great bands that do not rock & roll -- but their terminal politeness does cripple their music, preventing it from being as majestic as its aspirations.
is well scrubbed and well behaved, possessing a textbook education in classic
and the good sense to never stretch any farther than needed. They are the perfect middlebrow
band -- clean, pristine, and rational, seemingly smart since they never succumb to pounding, primal riffs, but also not weird enough to be genuine
. It's ambitious, yet its ambitions are modest, not risky, so their ambitions can be fulfilled without breaking a sweat. And since their sweeping yet subdued theatricality does recall the more majestic moments of
, they have won millions of fans, but another crucial reason that
have a broad appeal is that lead singer/songwriter
Chris Martin
never tackles any large issues, preferring to endlessly examine his feelings. Like on
, all the songs on
are ruminations on
Martin
's doubts, fears, hopes, and loves. His words are earnest and vague, so listeners can identify with the underlying themes in the songs, and his plain, everyman voice, sighing as sweet as a schoolboy, is unthreatening and unassuming, so it's all the easier for listeners to project their own emotions into the song. But for as impeccable as
is -- and, make no mistake, it's a good record, crisp, professional, and assured, a sonically satisfying sequel to
-- it does reveal that
's solipsism is a dead-end, diminishing the stature of the band. Where
is big in sound, scope, ambition, and intent,
is ultimately big music about small things, and even if
is a strong, accomplished album, its limited, narcissistic point of view is what prevents the quartet from inheriting the title of the biggest and most important band in the world. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine