dionisio

:embarrased:

:stunned: :dozey:

:uhoh: ...rite

it mite remain for 11 more months..till christmas! :idea2:

:o

my thread needs a lil muah refreshment..... :cool: but not now :smug:

:stunned:

ok enuff kissin..back to chocs..im jus unwrappin deli bounty :smug: :D

SO THIS IS WHAT they mean when they talk about "difficult" second albums: a follow-up record that reveals its authors as good, but not great; worth keeping, but nowhere near worth worshipping. Saying that about four honest, intelligent men with a minor talent for writing radio-friendly ballads feels like kicking a puppy - but Coldplay's sudden ascent to become a band some would hold up as an important rock act changes the rules. They have to stand up and be counted, and they know it. A Rush Of Blood To The Head (check that unguarded, how-the-fuck-did-we-get-here title!) is the work of men who are stretching their talent to breaking point, pushing themselves towards places they know they're not equipped to visit. In flashes, Coldplay have still got a knack of writing songs that would blow away if someone opened a window, but are just a little bit catchier and more moving than your cynical, critical mind would like. The album's centrepiece is The Scientist, a good bet for a number one single - a twee but undeniably affecting hymn to love gone astray, built on Chris Martin's rudimentary plinky-plonk piano. It's the soundtrack to a film that you have to watch on your own, because you don't want anyone to know it makes you cry like a baby; its standard minor chords seem like new discoveries. Warning Sign, similarly, has guitars like sighs, a simple "But the truth is, I miss you" chorus, a song that's nearly as lovely as the one it rewrites (Lambchop's You Masculine You). But Coldplay know this isn't enough for the new U2/Radiohead, so most of this album is taken up with their attempt to shift up a level. Politik is the opener: it's surprisingly austere musically and, as the title warns, rather pompous lyrically. Despite a whole page of complementary liner notes promoting free trade and relief charities, the song itself isn't really about anything; the impression being that Coldplay thought a political song would be an appropriate career step, and then looked for an issue to pontificate on. That's the wrong way round, and throughout this album, they try and fail to really mean it, to really find anything to say. It's not necessarily a problem that, while most great bands are people you'd like to go on a week-long boosty-woosty binge with, Coldplay seem more suited to a Sunday afternoon pint - a great band can get by without rock 'n' roll if they're bursting with ideas and agendas. But Coldplay aren't. Their music has the same flaw - it would like to be impressive, serious, grand on occasion, but all guitarist Jon Buckland has in his armoury are bludgeoning, repetitive chords, with which he kills The Scientist's finale, and basic arpeggios. The worst examples are the ineffectual bluster of A Whisper, and Daylight, an awkward marriage of the riff from The Cutter and Kid A-style mumbling (the shadows of those who have trod this hallowed ground before loom over all Coldplay's more ambitious moments). The wheels fall off towards the end of the record: the title track and the closer, Amsterdam (so called because - yawn - it was written there) are both styles in search of a peg to be hung on, sounds in search of a tune, ideas in search of the artistry to make them make sense. The band are lost. The candy-floss, acoustic Green Eyes is reportedly the band's least favourite track, but its childish, winsome charm makes it a welcome relief. Elsewhere, it's hard to believe that Coldplay know what they're doing. They sound like they don't believe it themselves. Jack Seale the-horse.net :x

lea u found the pic??! :sneaky:

:stunned: :stunned: :sneaky: u want a pic of sim :stunned: n...??? :sneaky: :sneaky: i have it here girls............................ :smug: :sneaky: follow these intructions and ull get the sexiest pic of simon :wink3: 1. google.com 2. search for images called "simon hicksy" or "hicksy simon" 3. :stunned: :lol: :lol: :cool:

".........A Rush Of Blood To The Head (check that unguarded, how-the-fuck-did-we-get-here title!) is the work of men who are stretching their talent to breaking point, pushing themselves towards places they know they're not equipped to visit.............." :veryangry2:

Über :smug:

:stunned:

:huh:

:idea2: superbowl...woaaaaaah this weekend.....i thought in feb!! wow....i wana see beyonce shakin that thing............... :D

why?! some awards?? :huh:

houston :dozey: :snore: :P

u gave shweety cheap one :stunned: :angry:

not u :lol: :rolleyes:

:cool:

:confused:

not in uk..but here in myuniv town......70cm snow :stunned: ..its white...everything

oook :stunned:

:stunned: ..t..tt...ttta...taa....tasty