Music of the Spheres is produced by Max Martin, who has essentially defined the parameters of pop music over the last quarter-century. Even Jar Jar Binks himself might look askance at Coldplay’s latest CGI abomination of a video, featuring dancing alien ducks among other extraterrestrials possibly kidnapped from an off-brand theme park. But the record is more akin to the franchise’s notorious prequels: overblown, cartoonish, seemingly made for 8-year-olds. There’s a loose sci-fi concept involving a distant solar system, and Martin has said he found inspiration in the Cantina Band from the original Star Wars. These two trends-cosmophilia and a shift away from emotional nuance-hit a strange zenith with their ninth studio album, Music of the Spheres.
They’ve also struggled to maintain the mix of paranoia and positivity that fueled their finest work their last few records lunged from misery to ecstasy without examining what’s in between. Since then, Coldplay have often invoked the cosmos-the stars, the moon, the planets in general-as they’ve reached for universal feelings while leapfrogging from theaters to arenas to stadiums all around Earth.
Martin saunters along a drizzly beach, enticing the sun to rise, putting a choirboy spin on the Verve’s misanthropic clip for “ Bitter Sweet Symphony.” In the middle of the video, when he raises a sleeve to his left eye, it’s unclear if he’s wiping away an errant raindrop or a tear. The “ Yellow” video, which was filmed on the day of drummer Will Champion’s mother’s funeral, is similarly poignant. Chris Martin’s falsetto can sound mournful, as if the object of his affection has already moved on, while guitarist Jonny Buckland’s distorted chords are slightly sour, hinting at turmoil in the undertow. The song’s cymbals crash and its lyrics pine for the stars, but it’s more than just some lovesick drivel. It’s been more than 20 years since “Yellow” introduced the world to Coldplay at their best: hopelessly romantic but not treacly, full of wonder but grounded in the present.
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