Remember that whimper? The apologetic, 'Jesus, put me out of my endless misery. Help me please. I never meant to cause you trouble...' Well, brace yourself, because as anyone who witnessed Coldplay storming Glastonbury some two months ago will realise, this mouse is now ready to roar.
In 2000, armed with an undisputedly touching debut album, Coldplay emerged as serious contenders. That they were marginalised in some quarters by the tawdry bleating of frontman Chris Martin - resulting in Alan McGee's infamous "bedwetters" slight - is also hardly in question. For this was a band whose swollen emotional gravitas also left them terminally noosed by sorrowful self-pity. But, as Glastonbury suggested, and 'A Rush Of Blood To The Head' now resolutely attests, maturity, bravery and fire make the man. They also make Coldplay's second album a stellar triumph.
The evidence is delivered immediately, as the dark, bold, insistent two-chord clang of 'Politik' dives out of the speakers. The tone is set: while there is heartbreak, mortality, uncertainty, self-loathing and despair in everything, there is also a light at the end of the tunnel and it is positively blinding. 'Politik' - apparently prompted by September 11 - muses on the wide-eyed emotional gasoline required to get you through, but is ultimately a rabid call-to-arms, unlike anything Coldplay have ever recorded before. Martin's booming timbre pleads "open up your eyes!" as the chorus strikes and within five minutes breaking point has already been breached.
Martin's desperate lusting for emotional affirmation is again a constant throughout this record, but, unlike on 'Parachutes', it rarely grates, because there is vivid musical colour shrouding his torment. 'In My Place' is the perfect example, the glorious, chiming guitar figure embellished by stirring string glows and a chorus of quite frightening anthemic proportions, making lines such as "please, please, come back and sing to me" uplifting rather than tortuous.
Elsewhere, tracks such as the broken but cathartic 'The Scientist' and 'Warning Sign' are founded on the realisation that Martin is perhaps not so much straightjacketed by crippling mental disfigurement, rather he just keeps on meeting the wrong women. Either way, 'Warning Sign' explodes the emotional barometer like a shotgun to the chest, its chorus of "when the truth is, I miss you" likely to send anyone living in a 24-hour emotional terrordome spinning into the void.
However, the key to 'A Rush Of Blood To The Head' is to be found not in Martin's presence, but in the intensity, dynamism, verve and style that Coldplay have now nailed, when comparisons to Radiohead, Echo and The Bunnymen and, perhaps most pertinently, U2's 'Unforgettable Fire', manifest themselves in a series of killer strides.
'God Put A Smile Upon Your Face', 'Clocks' and 'A Rush Of Blood To The Head' are all magnificent. 'God...' in actual fact is an utter revelation, Martin swaggering across the track as Jonny Buckland's driving guitar riff thrusts upwards, riding the wave of Will Champion's persistent drum tattoos. Rarely have Coldplay taken a song by the balls with such gripping, edgy style. 'Clocks' is similarly thrilling, a waterfall of tumbling piano glory flooding the egg-shell fragility cocooning our troubled but defiant pop hero.
On the title track, Martin tells us "I'm going to buy a gun and start a war. If you can tell me something worth fighting for", which is the essence of this record. Coldplay are at the crossroads. The last thing they're going to do is surrender. It is indeed time to open up your eyes.
by Ben Gilbert