In 2005, Coldplay was a nice group of guitars and piano to Travis, which came to publish two original works meritorious in which he played lovely songs not suitable for diabetics.
All rubbing their hands thinking on a compilation that included his hits like "The Scientist", "Yellow" or "Do not panic", and save yourself the blatant filler abounds with "Parachutes" and "A rush of blood to the head ", records that do not transmit anything, cold and fascias, but with obvious successes marketers.
For the third attempt, Chris Martin, convinced of their qualities inexhaustible composer, and trying to move beyond their singles that still sweetened captivate housewives, executives and teenagers with acne, pulled out of the closet "X & Y", an album that sounded as stiff and pachydermal before editing. With nothing new to say and not even counting the 3 or 4 songs on duty that supported his earlier work, the boys set out to fill it to the eternal over-complacent tasteless to say: "Wow ... This is a masterpiece."
"Square One" opens the album grandly, which lowers my blood pressure at 8 / 5. The song is a paragon of places common bulk, about aaahs here, another ooohs there, always tracing to U2, but the worst sounding like Bon Jovi.
"What if" is a ballad sterile packed the omnipresent piano, which always portends something will happen that will emerge a chorus of a hat, but none of this happens because in the dressing room Coldplay no galleys or none of them is a magician. "White Shadows" wakes us up after the previous blunder, getting, with the sound 'bigger than life', save the ignoble start the album. For now, the most redeemable of "X & Y". Correct issue that should last 3 minutes but is stretched to twice. The last segment, liturgical style, makes me want to burn churches, to Varg Vikernes.
"Fix You" is a vulgar and prefabricated masturbatory ballad that once again attempts to move the falsetto, but never rises above middling, with one of the most embarrassing choruses to remember. Beside her, "Say You, Say Me" is a masterpiece. Gigantism stained all over, this tune, barely 2 minutes, seems to last 20, with a crescendo announces epic, which promotional package, this is THE song of the album, but that is better as a jingle of Prepaid medicine.
In "Talk" there is nothing more than the phrasing of "Computer Love", which they rented to Kraftwerk. However, this version is far less fossil that circulating in the net, which is a compliment, considering that Coldplay is an ideal group to sleep hungry wolves.
"X & Y" is another 5 minutes Baladites makes the worst songs of Keane seem to Julian Cope. I can not imagine someone listens regularly, so oozing ears so childish brand Robbie Williams.
"Speed \u200b\u200bof sound" is not only based on a theme of Kate Bush, but a autoplagio of "Clocks" from her previous CD, irradiated ad nauseam in supermarkets, funeral homes, long distance buses and even the laundry room of my brother in law, so not to pay to hear it again. However, in a disc like this seems negligible.
"A message" tries to recapture the spirit of the band, however, being the other Baladites unbearable (and go ... how many?), Does not gel or Radio Disney. Five minutes of shame that flow back into the acoustic format. Come on, Martin, yet!
"Low" begins more festive, pompous verses and intent of transcendence, giving the feeling that maybe this time if something happens. False alarm, and "Low", despite the interpretation of Brian Eno, follows in the footsteps of his sisters (I acknowledge that and I find it very hard to keep listening to this obstinate pastiche. should discuss it in three or four posts, to prevent cramping perennial.).
"The hardest part is the only song on the album that could hum on a scaffold. An oxygen tank that encourages me to move forward with determination. Lasts a little longer than it should, but at this point we must not ask for miracles.
"Swallowed in the sea", "Twisted Logic" and the hidden track "+" (aka "Til Kingdom Come") are the last three compositions meaningless, grace and without melody that contains this work with Alzheimer creative. Fill catalog them would be a nonsense, because all the bad "X & Y" is.
n
Summary: This album is more false than $ 8 ticket and less tasty than petroleum jelly souffle, lasts a whopping one hour and does not contain a single song remarkable. For this, I ask: does anyone, except homeowners weekend sport-elegant clothes can still hear this today?
To point: Argentina is the country with more users per km pleated pants 2 the world.
For the third attempt, Chris Martin, convinced of their qualities inexhaustible composer, and trying to move beyond their singles that still sweetened captivate housewives, executives and teenagers with acne, pulled out of the closet "X & Y", an album that sounded as stiff and pachydermal before editing. With nothing new to say and not even counting the 3 or 4 songs on duty that supported his earlier work, the boys set out to fill it to the eternal over-complacent tasteless to say: "Wow ... This is a masterpiece."
"Square One" opens the album grandly, which lowers my blood pressure at 8 / 5. The song is a paragon of places common bulk, about aaahs here, another ooohs there, always tracing to U2, but the worst sounding like Bon Jovi.
"What if" is a ballad sterile packed the omnipresent piano, which always portends something will happen that will emerge a chorus of a hat, but none of this happens because in the dressing room Coldplay no galleys or none of them is a magician. "White Shadows" wakes us up after the previous blunder, getting, with the sound 'bigger than life', save the ignoble start the album. For now, the most redeemable of "X & Y". Correct issue that should last 3 minutes but is stretched to twice. The last segment, liturgical style, makes me want to burn churches, to Varg Vikernes.
"Fix You" is a vulgar and prefabricated masturbatory ballad that once again attempts to move the falsetto, but never rises above middling, with one of the most embarrassing choruses to remember. Beside her, "Say You, Say Me" is a masterpiece. Gigantism stained all over, this tune, barely 2 minutes, seems to last 20, with a crescendo announces epic, which promotional package, this is THE song of the album, but that is better as a jingle of Prepaid medicine.
In "Talk" there is nothing more than the phrasing of "Computer Love", which they rented to Kraftwerk. However, this version is far less fossil that circulating in the net, which is a compliment, considering that Coldplay is an ideal group to sleep hungry wolves.
"X & Y" is another 5 minutes Baladites makes the worst songs of Keane seem to Julian Cope. I can not imagine someone listens regularly, so oozing ears so childish brand Robbie Williams.
"Speed \u200b\u200bof sound" is not only based on a theme of Kate Bush, but a autoplagio of "Clocks" from her previous CD, irradiated ad nauseam in supermarkets, funeral homes, long distance buses and even the laundry room of my brother in law, so not to pay to hear it again. However, in a disc like this seems negligible.
"A message" tries to recapture the spirit of the band, however, being the other Baladites unbearable (and go ... how many?), Does not gel or Radio Disney. Five minutes of shame that flow back into the acoustic format. Come on, Martin, yet!
"Low" begins more festive, pompous verses and intent of transcendence, giving the feeling that maybe this time if something happens. False alarm, and "Low", despite the interpretation of Brian Eno, follows in the footsteps of his sisters (I acknowledge that and I find it very hard to keep listening to this obstinate pastiche. should discuss it in three or four posts, to prevent cramping perennial.).
"The hardest part is the only song on the album that could hum on a scaffold. An oxygen tank that encourages me to move forward with determination. Lasts a little longer than it should, but at this point we must not ask for miracles.
"Swallowed in the sea", "Twisted Logic" and the hidden track "+" (aka "Til Kingdom Come") are the last three compositions meaningless, grace and without melody that contains this work with Alzheimer creative. Fill catalog them would be a nonsense, because all the bad "X & Y" is.
n
Summary: This album is more false than $ 8 ticket and less tasty than petroleum jelly souffle, lasts a whopping one hour and does not contain a single song remarkable. For this, I ask: does anyone, except homeowners weekend sport-elegant clothes can still hear this today?
To point: Argentina is the country with more users per km pleated pants 2 the world.
g
"Could It Be Worse?" Asks Chris Martin in this version with lyrics of "Fix You". Sure it could be worse, Mr. Autofotocopia. Just listen to your next disc to assert it safely.
OTHER identical copies: "Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends" (2008 ) or "LeftRightLeftRightLeft" (2009).
ANTIDOTE: "Parachutes" (2000) and compiled nearest your home.
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