The Independent Blogs have hit back at the today's article by Andy Gill: Why I Hate Coldplay. Here is the response from within their own camp:
I like Coldplay. I do. I know, I know - very unfashionable, but there it is. I like their music. Always have. In fact, I like them so much that I'm convinced at least half the people who claim not to are lying in order to be cool. And I don't mind Chris Martin either. I mean, I've never met the man, but he's never done anything in public that could explain the rage he seems to inspire in my friends, my colleagues and, it seems, a good portion of the media.
So it was with a kind of resigned weariness that I learned The Independent's esteemed rock critic (!) Andy Gill would be joining the ranks of Coldplay-haters in this morning's paper. This will be another 2,000 words of undeserved bile tossed in the faces of poor Chris and his pals, I thought. And I was right. The commenters have been raging all morning, both for and against the band. I'll gladly be a witness for the defence.
First, Coldplay's music. In the interests of full disclosure, I should mention that I own pretty much all of it - and I paid for it with my hard-earned pennies, not by nicking it from the internet or being sent it by eager PRs with the misguided impression that journalists hold any sway over the Coldplay-loving public.
However, I also have a large collection of perfectly respectable records that Mr Gill and others would, I'm sure, happily spend a few days with. There's plenty of genres in there, and plenty of interesting, envelope-stretching artists (no, not just Radiohead). I like music, honest.
But too often I'll take home a record by a so-called avant-garde act who's been handed five stars by various members of the music press, only to find that, in among all the clattery percussion or the dance crossover pretensions, there's only a couple of tunes fit to grace my iPod.
Sometimes, when I buy a new record, I want to do so safe in the knowledge that I'll get my money's worth in muscular melodies and crashing chord changes - even if it turns out to be just G, C, D. Coldplay have invariably fulfilled that requirement, and I rely on them to do so. They're the best at it, and their continued existence means I needn't trouble myself with lesser bands of a similar persuasion.
Another distinguished rock critic, the late Ian MacDonald, once wrote something along these lines: listeners' tastes are shaped by a heirarchy of three distinct elements - a band's music, a band's lyrics, and a band's image. Even if you're infuriated by his vague lyrics or his sensible attire, only the hardest heart could honestly claim they'd never been moved, even an inch, by one of Mr Martin's melodies.
The lyrics, then. OK, they're hazy. Some of them are downright predictable, and they espouse the sort of simplistic sentiments that evidently make "serious" rock fans cringe. But I'm afraid that's their strength as well as their weakness. You can use Coldplay's songs as a painkiller when you're feeling low, or as a complement to euphoria. I hardly need to present evidence for the breadth of the band's appeal. What did X&Y sell again? Nine million, was it? Ten?
I also want to address the issue of Chris Martin. How can such an inoffensive man make so many people so angry? So he does some charity work. That's, er... a good thing, isn't it? He's a darn sight more bearable than Bono, yet without the pair of them the man in the street might never have heard of Greenpeace or making trade fair.
So he's not Johnny Rotten. I'd prefer, for once, a singer who's honest about being as middle-class as his fans, rather than another of the countless young stars who spend Saturday nights in Camden pretending they've always been into sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, before heading to their parents' place in Hampstead for a Sunday roast.
As to the Gwyneth thing, we all know how easy it can be for a famous couple to fill the limelight by appearing on the red carpet or in Hello! magazine together at every given opportunity. Such couples face a tough job evincing sympathy whenever they feel their privacy has been invaded a little too much.
Chris and Gwyneth, by contrast, go out of their way never to let anyone legitimately call them a "celebrity couple". Chris does all the necessary press for his new album, Gwyneth shows up in a short skirt for the premiere of her new film. They separate their work from their private lives, and instead of respecting them for it, we pour scorn on their choice of baby names. Yes, I know, "Apple" is a bit silly, but she'll probably end up pretty enough to get away with it.
Finally, may I point out that, in spite of his professed "hatred" for Coldplay, Gill managed to find it within himself to reward their new album Viva La Vida a reasonably respectable three stars. If you're already a fan, or open-minded enough to be converted, you can translate that into (at least) a healthy four.
Source: http://blogs.independent.co.uk
Recommended Comments