What the fuck happened to Coldplay? To think of how they started, and where they are now. Never has a band’s sound and identity shifted so much, from the charming indie rock anthems of their elegant debut album Parachutes, to the insipid drivel that they present to us today.

Remarkably it hasn’t stopped them to go on to become one of the biggest bands in the world, and it’s possibly playing to this success that has been their undoing artistically, by producing bland, dull tunes that sell.

It’s always with a heavy heart when a new Coldplay album comes upon our desk, with memories of seeing them, so vibrant, on touring their debut in 2000 and 100% buying into them as a band. And despite their losing their way so spectacularly over the years, Parachutes remains a beautiful and tender testament of what was.

This then is their tenth studio album.

Kicking things off is opening track “Moon Music”, with cool electro maestro Jon Hopkins. It’s slow, melancholic with Chris Martin’s vocals drizzled over like an organic honey, as he part talks part sings, before it drifts off into the distance.

And then it gets really bad with “feelslikeimfallinginlove”. It’s just an upbeat tune that is just so generic and empty, despite how often the word ‘love’ features. Yet another Coldplay track completely devoid of soul.

Knowing that their street cred is not what it was, the band drag Little Sims, Burna Boy, Elyanna & Tinni into the Coldplay ‘family’. Little did they know that by doing so, their own street cred dips into the negative. But you know what, the bag of cash in return helps, we’re sure. It’s the type of song you would hear on Eurovision night, which would be deemed fairly ‘edgy’ for the occasion. Oh and of course there’s an urban choir thrown into the mix just to prove how ‘Kool’ the band are.

Next – “Jupiter”. Oh that choir is still there. Joy. And you can hear how upbeat Martin’s vocals are, as he declares “I love who I love”. No doubt, Chris. And then some strings, to make it sound real classy. It’s the kind of song that you just know flips the switch in serial killers to go out on a mass shooting.

“Good Feelings” brings a little soul into proceedings, or at least soul-lite, with guest vocals by Nigerian singer Ayra Starr. It’s upbeat, and kinda catchy, but in the way muzak in a lift is. But like everything else here, it’s all dead inside.

Next is a song called “Rainbow”. Fucking “rainbow”. AKA “Alien Hits/Alien Radio”. Again, it makes you feel riled just reading it before even hearing it. Thankfully, it doesn’t disappoint and is nothing more than a supposed ethereal wank by the band. We would never advocate self harm, but you can’t help but feel this is a trigger for it. The only thing that could make it worse is...oh, right, it is longer, at over six minutes long. Kill us now.

It can’t worse can it? It can? Oh God.

“IAAM”. It’s an anthem. You can see it used in a Coca Cola ad. Stirring. Powerful. Corporate drivel. “Stood on a sea of pain” sings Chris. A sea of pain, Chris? Really? “Let it rain, let it rain let it rain”. You want it to rain on your painful sea Chris? Okay. “I’ll be back on my feet again”, they’re gonna be kinda soggy though, right Chris? Especially with all that painful rain and all. “’Cause I am a mountain”. A mountain with wet feet Chris? Are you sure about that? What about a little side table instead, just as sturdy but they have feet too. Chris has probably over-caffeinated, bless him.

It must be the future with its electro intro, hard beats, and its sci-fi name – “Aeterna”. It’s Coldplay does Ibiza. And yes, it’s as bad as it sounds. Big fish, little fish, dead fish. Lots of dead fish. Oh and making use of that choir for the outro, classy.

That piano intro can only be one thing, look out, earnest Coldplay on the horizon, alert! “All My Love”. Never has there been a more banal love song ever written. That’s it, add a bed of strings now, just to give it an extra level of thick syrupy goo. Keep your love Chris.

And so to the final track. “One World”. No really. Of course the band are going to finish their album with a track called that. It’s Coldplay after all. Chris sings “It’s only one world” a lot. A lot. It makes you think about the planet we live on. Think about what we’re doing here, wasting our time, listening to Coldplay. It makes you think about what you want for lunch, a baked potato with tuna mayo perhaps? But what it makes you think, more than anything, is when is this trite nonsense ever going to end. “In the end it’s just love” Chris repeats over and over. Don’t forget about the hate Chris. So much hate. Oh listen, a cute little outro of Chris singing “la” over and over. Probably the best thing on the album.

And it’s over. Now that’s something worth thanking God for.

So unfortunately, this tenth album hasn’t changed our mind about Coldplay. And we doubt it will change anyone’s mind. But those converted and worship at the organic temple of Coldplay will heart it.

They have, without doubt, transformed from a classy little band into a global threat to music as we know it. Which you have to admit, is some going.

Coldplay have evolved into that band that play in churches, spurting tripe about love and God, making young girls swoon with their trademark ideology, no doubt sponsored by Goop.

They recently appeared on QVC in the states, with a segment devoted to flogging this album. And that is who Coldplay are now. That is what they have become. Love us, buy our album, and love us all. Love what we do, by our album, buy two copies, buy them all. Buy into us. It would have been deliciously ironic if it wasn’t so darn tragic.

But listen, there may be some good news on the horizon. Martin has recently revealed that the twelfth Coldplay album will be their last. Just read that last sentence out loud, sounds so good, right?

You get the impression that perhaps the band are tired of this goody goody love everyone persona, that hangs heavy around their collective necks, and they want to be seen wearing leather and eating meat in public once again, because that’s what rock stars do.

Whatever the reason, the death of Coldplay can’t come soon enough.