Last Friday, Coldplay released a new single from their forthcoming album, “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall.”
It’s the band’s first song since their Christmas release, “Christmas Lights,” which I liked. “Christmas Lights” had to grow on me, true, because it was so atypical of where the band’s last albumw as — “Christmas Lights” sounds muchly like the brother to A Rush of Blood to the Head‘s “The Scientist.” And once I understood that, I loved it.
What of “Every Teardrop,” then?
Well, it’s noisy. I’ll give it that.
It’s a happy Coldplay song. This is weird to me — I listen to Coldplay because they’re morose.
Actually, that’s not entirely true; since Chris Martin found utter bliss with Gwyneth Paltrow, the band’s music has taken a decidedly non-morose turn. Some think this is a good turn. Some think this is a bad turn. I, personally, think this is a bad turn. I utterly adore the morose piano-based ballads that comprise the band’s first two albums. And give me Coldplay’s version of “Gravity” any day.
Suffice it to say, a happy Coldplay song has a high hurtle to reach before I’ll give it the time of day.
X&Y was a happy album, but the songs I love from it are the morose songs. Yet, I enjoy the album because it has a mixture of both happy and morose, and this becomes just like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup — two great tastes that taste great together.
Viva La Vida was also a happy album, but it was also a curious album, because it felt so unfinished. I like it, but I like it far more when I play it back-to-back with Prospekt’s March, which finishes the album in a way.
I’m avoiding talking about “Every Teardrop.” It’s because it’s just… so… unmemorable.
It’s not a terrible song, but it sounds like the love child of “Speed of Sound” and “Violet Hill,” with a liberal dose of “Strawberry Swing.” It’s a happy song, it’s like the sun coming out, but I don’t get a feel for what the song is about, and it doesn’t make me feel anything.
Even after forcing myself to listen to it, I can’t remember a thing about the song. I don’t remember the riffs, guitar and synth. I don’t remember a lyric. I don’t even know what the song’s about.
As songs go, it’s just… there.
Maybe it will grow on me. Maybe in the context of the fifth album, due in the autumn as I understand it, the song will make more sense. Maybe.
But honestly? It just makes me long for the halcyon days of Coldplay moroseness, when Chris Martin wrote gutbucket blues songs and wrapped them in the veneer of Britpop.
I guess we all grow up.