CD review: Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends, Coldplay (20080618)

From WikiColdplay

Viva La Vida Or Death And All His Friends

Coldplay Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends Parlophone/EMI Rating: Three-and-a-half stars (out of five)

MONTREAL - Welcome to act four, in which the world famous rock band faces its demons - particularly the nagging feeling (and rampant criticism) that, despite being one of the biggest groups on the planet, its music is rather lightweight fare.

After conquering the world with three albums of soft-sung romantic pop-rock - 2000's Parachutes, 2002's A Rush of Blood to the Head and 2005's X & Y - Chris Martin and his mates were out for respect.

They called in sonic wizard Brian Eno, who took them to task on a bunch of points and set about helping them make a mature, career-revamping album. Not a revolutionary one. Not even a particuarly shocking one. But one that offers a little more to chew on.

Through his own solo material and his work with bands such as Talking Heads and U2, Eno has proven himself a master of atmosphere, and he brings that expertise to the table.

More than anything else, he sets a mood. He makes Martin & Co. chill out, gets them to pull back on the obvious, and give the music some breathing room. The biggest surprise is not a surprise at all, but rather the lack of it. This sounds very much like a Coldplay album. For better or worse, Eno allows the band to keep its identity. Thus, Martin's emotional exposition remains a central tenet. But it is not the only one. The instrumentation steps up to share the spotlight, allowing some things to go unsaid, and unsung.

Songs are spare, with broad arcs. Eno does not equate heaviosity with credibility, so the band rocks out only in spurts. The rest of the time, it works at creating an expansive, less-is-more aesthetic.

Post-intro opener Cemeteries of London is a syncopated dreamscape with a "la-lalalala-la-la" hook. On Lost!, Martin whispers hokey riddles over a boom-clap beat and an all-encompassing organ backdrop. There had to be at least one tender piano ballad, and 42 is it, before the song turns into a jagged drum-and-guitar sparring session, elevates into an upbeat rocker, and drops back down to near-nothing.

Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love is a galloping U2-inspired anthem in the first half, and swaying piano hymn (that makes two) in the second. The semi-title-track Viva la Vida is soaring orchestral-pop; while Violet Hill is the album's raunchiest moment, musically speaking - distorted guitars and blues-rock grit underpin Martin's non-falsetto (at least until the chorus) singing voice.

In terms of crafting a more sophisticated, less facile rock statement, Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends succeeds, sort of. There is an aura of quiet confidence about these songs, an open-ended accessibility that yearns to be more than the sum of its parts. But the parts, the individual building blocks, are clearly identifiable, and transcendence therefore remains elusive.

Podworthy: Yes

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