“I will try to fix you.”
Man, I fucking hate Coldplay. Even writing that one little bit of their lyrics brought on an unexpected bilial surge. The more you listen to this one damn song, the more repulsive it gets. It’s like some kind of Bizarro version of wine that tastes worse the older it gets.
Now, there’s people who adore the band, I get that. They connect with the songs in swirls of emotions tethered on by the seemingly omnipresent voice of Chris Martin, an annoyingly likeable dude who unfortunately strayed off the path of musical righteousness and instead became a figurehead of the current musical landscape’s dullest corners.
There’s also think pieces galore around the study of why it is as it is, why this band is so successful, so loved and strangely enough, also vociferously despised. Most of it boils down to one thing – The elements of music that help it not be confined to a singular genre are the same things that keep it astoundingly mediocre. The more they try to branch out, the more chaotic and tacky their music gets, while the shit they did when their music was stripped down easy was actually not half bad. Think about it, they’re a band, they’re decent musicians, they can probably kick it to something fresh if they want to. Instead, they employ entire orchestras and horn sections for songs invoking the same old schtick over and over again, and people lap it up.
This is, of course, all entirely personal, and thereby wholly biased, but just the sheer number of times I’ve had to tolerate a rum-wracked karaoke performance of the song Yellow is reason enough. This band is too famous – it’s all around, playing at malls, at parties, on long ass road trips made longer still by the whiny trills of Paradise turned down low. And as with all things in excess, the sheen’s worn off and the shit’s lit up.
I used to like a couple of their songs, I still dig one song in particular, it’s called God Put A Smile Upon Your Face, but all their other famous tracks since the album A Rush Of Blood To The Head have taken on the same quality as songs like Sweet Child O’ Mine or Wonderwall – they’re overplayed, over-appreciated and strangely draining.
This band has literally saturated my musical taste buds, they’ve squeezed every last drop of surface emotion out of my being, they’re bland, they’re dreary, they’re popular – they’re like the Doordarshan of the musical universe.
There’s probably thousands of bands out there, with a whole lot of interesting material, and there’s the internet to connect you to it all, and yet people still don’t make the effort to listen to something beyond what’s right in their faces – and that’s exactly what Coldplay is. It’s the physical embodiment of the lazy listener’s wet dream, and I ain’t going anywhere near someone else’s wet dream, especially if that someone has bad taste in music.