Tuesday, September 23, 2014

My Amazon Reviews: Coldplay "Ghost Stories"

Telling Strange Tales
4 Out Of 5 Stars

Stripping themselves back considerably from their last few albums, Coldplay's "Ghost Stories" bares the band to key piano pop balladry and Chris Martin's laments of love. For fans of the lush "Viva La Vida" or the Eno-inilftrated "Mylo Xyloto, this will sound almost naked. Martin has never sounded this intimate, and the band hasn't been this uncluttered sine their "Parachutes" debut.

What would explain this sudden call back to a more bare bones sound? Well, for one, Martin and longtime lady Gwyneth Paltrow have called it quits, and some of the songs sure do feel like break-up please. "Magic" is the earnest tip of the iceberg, as Martin keeps begging "I don't want anyone else but you" over and over above a most subdued electronic pulse. Where most other bands would make this into pure corn, Coldplay make it so darn earnest that you kind of feel for the guy. And it doesn't always work. Soon after, he wails on "Ink" that he loves so much it hurts...just like that brand new tattoo. Even Martin can't get away with that one.

But what he does pull out of his hat here is sometimes close to brilliance. Coldplay may easily be one of the biggest bands in the world, but few would make such a left field turn as they do on "Ghost Stories." That inclination towards pop heavens is on full display on the album's most uptempo track, "Sky Full Of Stars." On prior albums, the band would have laid on the production till the song was bleeding U2-isms, this time around, it's piano filtered through some electronic treatments and Martin laying on as thick as he can. "In a sky full of stars, I think I saw you..." just as the beat kicks in courtesy of Swedish DJ Avicii. It's the kind of song that makes you happy to hear it on the radio.

"Ghost Stories" may be confessionals all the way, but it also brings Coldplay down to Earth. By the time it's over, Martin is comparing himself to a flock of birds drifting above the ground in that big falsetto of his. For all the glitter and widescreen production of their previous albums, this is where they finally find their soul. Bare souls, it seems, perhaps fly better.


     

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