Music Monday: Looking Back On Coldplay’s Nearly 25 Year Career

Very few artists who commit themselves to the craft of making music have the opportunity to enter the public consciousness, and even fewer have the chance to stay there as long as Coldplay. As of the writing of this article, the British rock band has the sixth most monthly listeners on Spotify of any artist in the world, placing it ahead of artists like Drake, Ed Sheeran and Sabrina Carpenter. It is the only band on Spotify’s top ten — Imagine Dragons is next at 24 — and its debut album was in 2000, making the band older than any other artist on the list.

In other words, Coldplay is the most listened-to rock band in the world and it has held that title for a long time. Its members are the most prolific recent example we have of what it looks to be rockstars — and no one’s been able to fill their shoes yet.

Coldplay released their tenth studio album “Moon Music” on Oct. 4, yet — according to Chris Martin, the band’s frontman — the band will stop making music in 2025, a quarter-century into its career. Their shoes, then, might be left empty. Coldplay will leave an interesting legacy — they will be remembered as shaping the sound of their era.

When Coldplay’s debut album “Parachutes” was released in 2000, the band members defined themselves as a different type of rock star. Both in the soft-spoken way Martin conducts himself in the interview room and the deeply sincere lyrics the band writes, Coldplay appears as a group of nice, respectable guys who in their mildness have something insightful to say about life. “Yellow,” Coldplay’s breakout hit from the album, uses fairly minimal instrumentation, including a simple but pretty electric guitar riff. Jonny Buckland, the band’s guitarist and co-founder, helps to bring the band its characteristically spacey and atmospheric sound across the album.

“Look at the stars / Look how they shine for you,” Martin sings. “And everything you do / Yeah they were all yellow.”

On this track, Martin sings of giving of himself to a person so beautiful and cherished that he imagines the stars must shine for them. There is nothing sardonic, cynical or detached here — just raw sentiment. 

In “A Rush of Blood to the Head,” their second studio album, Coldplay broadens to a larger view of the world that includes political affairs.

“Give me heart and give me soul / Wounds that heal and cracks that fix,” Martin sings in “Politik.” “Tell me your own politik.”

With this track — written as a reflection in the wake of 9/11 — Martin and his band further define the kind of rock stars they are, positioning themselves as the spiritual successors of U2. Not only do they eschew the edgy hedonism often associated with rock, but they also espouse messages of hope, healing and action regarding the state of the world. These may sound like pie-in-the-sky ideals, but in true Bono fashion, Coldplay backs its ideals up with philanthropy, supporting environmental organizations, disaster relief and aid to migrants — among other causes over the years.

Yet, Coldplay reaches its pinnacle in “Fix You,” one of the singles off of its third studio album “X&Y.”

“Lights will guide you home / And ignite your bones,” Martin sings. “And I will try to fix you.”

The song, written after Gwyneth Paltrow — Martin’s wife at the time — lost her father, builds to an emotional crescendo, instrumentation picking up and slowing down again. In a song both soft lyrically and sonically, Martin finds hope, even in the experience of comforting a loved one brought low by grief.

Coldplay’s detractors may accuse them of dealing in truisms — feelings too broad and comforting to be worthwhile. I think that, at their best, Coldplay deals in the moments where we are so overcome with emotion that beauty feels like something we may really be able to reach out and touch with our own fingers. When we’re young, falling in love and heartbreak both feel like their own kind of magic. We can move beyond these feelings, believing that any art that engages with them is not sufficiently grown-up or sophisticated, but we can’t deny the power they once held over us.

Over their following albums, Coldplay reaches varying highs and lows, with mixed views existing on Coldplay’s evolution. To some, they thematically plateau, failing to break new ground — and to others, their sound remains fresh and new. “Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends” carries forward Coldplay’s political messaging, “Ghost Stories” explores the heartbreak of Martin’s divorce from Paltrow and “A Head Full of Dreams” leans into radio-friendly electronica-infused pop rock.

To me, though, the definite transition comes with “Music of the Spheres,” Coldplay’s ninth studio album. An extremely safe blend of electropop and rock, the concept album is full of vaguely humanistic messages that — to the credit of Coldplay’s detractors — really aren’t saying much.

“We’re only human,” Martin sings on the track “Humankind.” “But we’re capable of kindness / So they call us humankind.”

Unfortunately, “Moon Music,” Coldplay’s latest studio album, seems to be much of the same. Though it has highs that are comfortingly dreamy and uplifting yet reflective, the album frequently finds itself in a lyrical peaches and cream mentality, accompanied by the same sounds we have come to expect from them. The track “GOOD FEELiNGS” is emblematic of the album’s emotional sphere.

“All the good, good feelings,” Martin sings. “Don’t ever let, don’t ever let them / Don’t ever let them go (Oh).”

Though nice and inspiring and pleasant, “Moon Music” doesn’t aim to be much more. Coldplay has been nice and inspiring and pleasant before, but the band has the ability to also be moving, and devastating and emotionally layered. Maybe commercialization has something to do with the plateau, or maybe it is simply hard to sustain the same self-image with the same quality as a band for so long. I can’t help but wonder if that’s why Coldplay is, by their own choice, coming to the end of the road.

Even before their latest two albums were released, I thought Coldplay’s greatest strength was not originality as much as it was universality. In music discourse, a high premium is placed on being “original,” but I don’t know if it’s always necessary to have something original to say. Going out of your way to do so may result in something silly and contrived. It is equally valuable to speak to something universal in a way that is fresh and inspired — even if not wholly new. Coldplay has been so successful for so long because the band has left itself open for all of us to find ourselves in its music.

I’ve listened to Coldplay on many late-night drives — in those rare moments where perspective is heightened by experiences found only in the gaps between seasons of life, where both heartbreak and new opportunities live. That’s the Coldplay experience at its best.

So hats off to you, Coldplay, for almost twenty-five years of music.