Chris Martin clearly feels a duty to make use of his bully pulpit to unfold positivity. Nothing mistaken with that. One of many causes Coldplay are the most important ticket-shifters in rock historical past is that Martin is an incredible frontman, each for his witty, participating persona and his heartfelt supply. But solely the latter ever makes it on to Coldplay’s albums. There is no such thing as a wit on Moon Music. He utterly erases that a part of himself. All that continues to be is empty, cloying optimism and an excessive amount of ingratiating tosh in regards to the stars and the sky and spheres and moons and rainbows and clouds and heaven. It’s the Magic FM delivery forecast.

The tosh is bearable the place Coldplay’s golden melodic contact survives – We Pray and Good Emotions are significantly pleasurable. However, as on Music of the Spheres (2021), Max Martin’s anaemic manufacturing saps the weaker tracks: oodles of generic playlist pop that, other than the piano ballads, cut back the band’s glorious gamers to ornamental equipment. Hopefully, for his or her deliberate remaining two albums, Coldplay can conjure extra trippy bangers equivalent to 2015’s Journey of a Lifetime or Hymn for the Weekend. And switch up the wit.