S Poddar
Pop music can feel sometimes strikingly empty, sometimes absolutely vital, as the world around seems more and less hospitable than ever: conflicts are bursting, climate is acting crazy, and so can Coldplay’s new record, the tenth studio album Moon Music. While this is full of sweeping melodies, this album has a tendency to be undercut by sappy lyrics and wall-of-sound orchestral padding.
It starts with Chris Martin’s spot-on guardedly hopeful musings, over soft piano chords. He’s talking about embracing optimism, saying “I’m trying to trust in a world full of love.” This distills the whole album, which works pretty hard to create a utopian vision of humanity. There’s an emphasis on spirituality that’s vague enough to appeal to anyone, coupled with a steadfast refusal to delve into the messy world of politics. The result is an idealized world that honors differences but also smoothes them over into a uniform, harmonious whole.
At its base, Moon Music asks if such a project makes any sense in an age that’s defined by division and strife. Some will find this vision nice and soothing; others may find it too simplistic or even patronizing. With over 25 years in the business, Coldplay is familiar with mixed reviews. To many, they are now the poster children of hearts on their sleeves, taking the liberty to make listeners wave their hands with joy or roll their eyes in frustration.
For instance, on the lead single “feelslikeimfallinginlove.” The song has a familiar Coldplay sound but lacks originality in doing something different. The lyrics – “It feels like I’m falling in love / Maybe for the first time” – appear intended to animate a newfound passion, but execution is so slipshod that it doesn’t succeed. You can almost envisage Dakota Johnson nudging Chris Martin’s boyfriendship a bit harder, saying he could be sure of his emotions, while Gwyneth Paltrow, his ex-wife, raises an eyebrow at the suggestion that this could be his first real experience in love.
And then there are those moments when the album lapses into what can only be called ambient-orchestral fillers. Songs like read literally: a song with the rainbow emoji as the title take brief ideas and stretch them into lengthy segments that seem to have been engineered simply to make the album feel heavier. These bloated codas full of pseudo-profound atmosphere remind you from time to time that Coldplay is trying too damn hard for grandeur.
Then of course there’s the lyrics themselves. Occasionally, they’re just far too lush to grace some motivational poster or hang above some bed in the most desirable abodes listed on Airbnb, such as “don’t ever forget those good feelings,” which really called out to be scrawled across the wall of the communal living room. And then there is “iAAM,” where Martin sings, “I’ll be back on my feet again, cos I am a mountain,” a line so chock-full of potential for marketing-savvy therapists to print upon inspirational photos of mountain ranges.
Some compositions are impossible to avoid being cheesy-sounding, like All My Love and its chorus by Martin: “Till I die, let me hold you if you cry.” The syrupy sentimentality was so overwrought that one could almost bottle it as sweetener. And despite its inalienable cheesiness, All My Love will surely remain one of the gold standby choices for many weddings. It’s one of those tracks where, even if you catch yourself cringing at the lyrics, the music sweeps you away. Before you know it, you’re blubbing over a tear and whispering to yourself, “Dammit, Chris.”
Still, despite so many pratfalls, Moon Music has its moments. For instance, iAAM is one of them, despite odd metaphors, manages to deliver that epic sound only Coldplay could create. Drumer Will Champion gives it a driving rhythm that resonates the power of Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA. While Coldplay takes away the political sensibility of Springsteen’s anthem, they fill it with the drama of personal victory. It’s that kind of song that makes you feel as if you have conquered Mount Everest, yet all you have done is run a simple errand.
The real gem of the album, though, is Jupiter, a song about a queer girl that everyone misunderstands. While this is a great tune because of the genuine warmth and openness she brings to it, Martin’s plainspoken lyrics actually work to the song’s advantage, especially with the line “I love who I love” becoming a call-and-response anthem. Jupiter could easily become beloved among LGBTQ+ and perhaps even an unexpected anthem at Pride celebrations.
Ultimately, though, Moon Music is pure Coldplay. It goes for those soaring highs and doles out the ear-rolling lows, piling ambitious musicality over saccharine lyrics that sometimes veer perilously toward absurdity. For fans who’ve been along for the ride for every bit of their development, it’s going to feel more of an extension of their emotional journey. To others, it’s just another reminder of the band’s tendency to overshoot its mark in pursuit of feel-good universality. Regardless of which camp you fall into, one thing is certain, though: Coldplay retains its ability to provoke strong reactions, for better or worse.
