Pushing for a bigger display around the release of every album eventually leads to a performative mess. Everyday Life being broadcast from Amman Citadel at sunrise and sunset is the advertisement campaign only the insane can afford. But Chris Martin is either a soothsayer who predicted his band’s success or a lucky man whose ability to mirror pop likeability and change almost nothing is a fascinating black hole in chart history. Either way, eight albums in and Coldplay had lost their charm. They were chipping away at it for four solid albums, and then the dam burst. They were flooded out by their hopes of a bright future where we all link arms and sing Paradise. Their lack of tour supporting Everyday Life and daring use of curse words for the first time in their discography, are about as rebellious as Coldplay gets. They’re the nerdy child who believes changing a letter in the teacher’s name to form a pun is equivalent to truancy or arson.
But Coldplay is not capable of lighting fires like that. They just aren’t that type of band and have known as much for a decade leading up to Everyday Life, or at least, that is the perception today. There was a time when Coldplay were not so scared to make comments, and Martin received plenty of stick for those acts of soft political statement. His bicycle squadrons powering show generators and printing discarded albums on disposable plastic are both acts of sincerity. We question it because we expect there to be some incentive for a pop artist to comment or act. It does not seem to be the case, though, and Coldplay proves they have one thing separating them from the bulk of chart-topping musicians. A backbone. Everyday Life opens with Sunrise, an inferior song to the Pulp track of the same name, but a fitting opener for an album which contrasts their previous works brilliantly.
A mellow sound is what they chase here. It works well not just because it provides a contrast to their previous album, but because it shares a sincerity lacking in their works since then. Dud pop trivialities of A Head Full of Dreams are forgotten here. Not forgiven, but certainly out of mind, while Churches and Trouble in Town settle into a slower tempo style. BrokEn has the band tackle a style they had not used before, and never again. Sincerity is what guides this gospel-backed moment, a real highlight because there are no far-reaching lyrics, just the simplicity of communal spirit and a shared love of light instrumentals. Daddy and Arabesque are solid numbers which draw a refreshing instrumental spark out of the band. Political comments made by the band on Everyday Life are nothing revolutionary, but the impact which comes from their recognition across the globe is noteworthy.
That does not excuse the sluggish occasions. Guns may be the most politically charged of their works, but it is also the weakest part of the album, musically, that is. Trapped around a campfire with Martin and a broken guitar is never a nice experience, but our suffering with this album is a projection of the global horrors. Enough instrumental variety, plenty of genre changes, it’s a project highlighting issues of conflict and the cruelness of the world. Everyday Life does not pull at any of the threads in sight because the vague passivity, the helplessness, adds a layer of sincerity to it. Coldplay are not here to solve the problems, that is not their job. They offer songs like Cry Cry Cry and Old Friends to crack through the division, to draw comparisons of people around the world, and it works well.
