Coldplay Unveils Its First Ghostly Tale As The Clock Strikes Midnight

Chill-inducing. That's about the best adjective I can come up with for "Midnight", the new single from the changeling of the charts, Coldplay. Have you personally ever heard a single release of theirs that sounded exactly the same as any other? Me neither. "Yellow" is melancholy rock. "Clocks" sounds like free falling through the space-time fabric. "Speed of Sound" possesses the hooks that drive radio programmers wild. I could go on but I bet you've got other things to do with your evening that examining the case history of a band that has amassed worldwide success via a style you can't shoehorn neatly into one style. "Midnight" stems from "Ghost Stories", their upcoming album which is no doubt going to be on everyone's "must download" list before St. Patrick's Day rolls around. Remember how "Clocks" came at you in waves? Piano stretched on for miles. Guitar jabbing you on the way down? Drums slapping you around to see if you were paying attention? "Midnight" reminds me of that inescapable epic's creepy cousin. Instead of falling through space, we're slinking cautiously through total darkness with only Guy Berryman's keyboards there to help us maintain our solid footing. Yes, during the second half the color wheel lands on a little perkiness but for the most of part you've got to stay nimble on your feet because we don't know how long this blackout's going to last. Chris Martin loses himself in the abyss convincingly. You'll be disappointed if you think there's a power chord or five waiting to burst through the malaise. Seasoned followers know to expect the unexpected. Guy does slow cook a mean bass, though. There's the presence going bump in the night. Chris spins the yarn I hope doesn't visit me until my lifeline has more good ol' days stories than I know quite what to do with. Want a creepy life imitating art scenario. We'd wet ourselves if a deranged asylum patient was caught wandering about uttering these lyrics: "In the darkness before the dawn. In the swirling of the storm. When I'm rolling with the punches and hope is gone, leave a light, a light on." The other scene I imagine "Midnight" receiving top billing could be by your grandad's bedside while he's fighting for his survival in a hospital bed. So there you have it. Chris Martin, the FTD floral bouquet of sunshine optimism. Judging from the way the keyboards sprout wings around the closing turn I'd say "Midnight" has a shelf life as well. Before we reach the lamppost lighting our way to a less ominous end of town, we're again flung full force backwards into the keyboard bass unsettling morass. You want to run from Chris's descent into unfathomable despair but watching him writhe is oddly fascinating. The second batch of deflated poetry doesn't relieve us from his roiling turmoil. He's continuing to run only those track shoes are being eaten up by quicksand at an alarming rate. The Christ complex is completed with: "Millions of miles from home in the swirling, swimming on. When I'm rolling with the thunder but bleed from the thorns leave a light, a light on." To cry or to run while my respiration is easy to access. That is the pair of options at hand. Whether you place yourselves in the like 'em or lump 'em category, Coldplay has earned its stripes as a band of artists, not merely musicians who happen to have perfected the science of stage and studio chemistry. A Coldplay release is as close to an industry event as you're going to get. Only Muse commands the same level of curiosity when someone notices its name on an upcoming release schedule. I like it that Coldplay keeps people guessing. Goodness knows that there's enough formulaic sounding treacle on the charts right now that we don't need another song from an outfit trying to pass itself off as original. Coldplay wouldn't know how to be cliched on its worst day. "Midnight" deserves exploration whenever the mood strikes you.