Parachutes

Coldplay never intended to become England's favorite rock & roll sons when their signature rock melodies ruled the charts throughout 2000. The Brit-rock quartet -- composed of Chris Martin (vocals/piano), Jon Buckland (guitar), Will Champion (drums), and Guy Berryman (bass) -- yearned to mess around a bit, plucking their own acoustics for fun while attending the University College of London. All had been playing instruments since their early teens and had been influenced by the likes of Bob Dylan, the Stone Roses, Neil Young, and My Bloody Valentine.

They never imagined taking reign of the U.K.'s ever-changing rock scene. Each member had come from solid households of working-class parents that encouraged music to be played. Martin, the eldest of five, began playing the piano as a young child. He started playing in bands around age 15 and sought solace in the words of Tom Waits. Buckland, on the other hand, was into the heavy guitar work of Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix and was playing guitar by age 11. Scotland native Berryman was into funk instead of indie rock, therefore leaving him to play bass. The multi-instrumentalist, Champion, didn't plan to be a drummer until he joined Coldplay. He favored playing guitar, bass, and the tin whistle, but caught on to playing percussion when the band became official.

Coldplay was heart-rending like Travis, passionate like Jeff Buckley, and as fresh as Oasis when they first burst onto the scene, so it was ideal for the press and public to praise them. They played their first gig at a festival for unsigned bands in Manchester, and The Safety EP was issued shortly thereafter. The Brothers and Sisters EP was issued by Fierce Panda and released a year later. Both releases saw only 500 pressings. Their sweet melodies and swooning lyrics landed Coldplay a U.K. deal with Parlophone in April 1999, and the limited-edition five-track, The Blue Room EP, followed that fall. With endearing nods from the media, the dream pop foursome were hailed as the next Travis thanks to their simplistic acoustics and charming personas. Two more EPs, Shiver and Yellow, arrived in spring 2000.

Their full-length debut Parachutes, which earned the band a Mercury Music Prize nomination, was released in the U.K. In November 2000, Parachutes saw a U.S. release with Nettwerk; a month later, "Yellow" was chosen as the theme song for all promo spots for ABC. The well-received hype surrounding the band continued throughout 2001 as well, taking on three Brit Awards nominations and a sold-out ten-date tour of the U.S. in February. Rumors of a split consumed most of the U.S. tour. Martin frequently battled nasty colds and voice exhaustion, which led Coldplay to cancel a series of American dates and scrap a European tour. With all gossip aside, Coldplay resumed playing in summer 2001 and earned additional success with second single "Trouble."

By fall, they headed into the studio for a second album. Rumor had it that it might be Coldplay's last album, for the band felt they might not capture such brilliance again. A Rush of Blood to the Head was released in August 2002.

The London foursome Coldplay are constant critic's darlings in the band's native U.K., showcasing melodic pop in a slew of EP releases and constant live shows since the spark of the new millennium. Not as heavy as Radiohead or snobbish as Oasis, Coldplay is a band of young musicians who are still honing their sweet harmonies on the debut release Parachutes. Combining bits of distorted guitar riffs and swishing percussion, Parachutes is a delightful introduction and also quickly indicates the reason why this album earned Coldplay a Mercury Music Prize nomination in fall 2000.

Frontman Chris Martin's lyrical wordplay is feministic in the manner of Geneva's Andrew Montgomery, but far more withered. The imagery captured on Parachutes is exquisitely dark and artistically abrasive, and the entire composition is tractable thanks to gauzy acoustics and airy percussion. Coldplay's indie rock inclinations are also obvious, especially on songs such as "Don't Panic" and "Shiver," but it's the dream pop soundscapes captured on "High Speed" and "We Never Change" that illustrate the band's dynamic passion. This basic pop is surely a refreshing effort in the face of big productions like the Spice Girls and Westlife. Parachutes deserves the accolades it has received because it follows the general rule when introducing decent pop songs: keep the emotion genuine and real. And Coldplay has done that without hesitation.

— MacKenzie Wilson

Pretty, lovely, fine, fair, comely, pleasant, agreeable, acceptable, adequate, satisfactory, nice, benign, harmless, innocuous, innocent, largely unobjectionable, safe, forgettable. I have just summed up in 19 words what I am about to say about Coldplay's debut full-length, Parachutes, in 600. Aside from being seemingly tailor-made for the paper-thin adult contemporary market, what is it about this Britrock quartet that's driving them up the American charts? Is it their popularity in their home country, or their Mercury Music Prize nomination? Could it be their charming, boyish good looks? Perhaps, even, a reputation built by Noel Gallagher's projected insistence that they're "a bunch of fuckin' pansies, the lot of them?" In reality, Coldplay's secret deadly weapon is vocalist Chris Martin. With the ability to mimic a Brit-accented Dave Matthews one minute, Jeff Buckley revived from the dead the next, and sometimes even a young Peter Gabriel, Martin's heartfelt delivery seems to be what's winning the hearts, wallets and alternative radio request lines of Americans young and old. That's not to say that the rest of the group isn't sharp. Guitarist Jon Buckland provides plaintive, strummed acoustic guitar with the occasional amplified wail, and bassist Guy Berryman with drummer Will Champion form a competent rhythm section. Oh yeah, the songs. They're nothing special. Most of the 10 tracks on Parachutes are indeed pleasant enough, often consisting of standard alterna-pop fare with the occasional folky ballad. They're innocent and inoffensive in general, but in turn, they're also exceedingly generic and immediately forgettable-- so much so, in fact, that after a minute of one song, you've usually already forgotten what the last song sounded like. And that's even after a few listens. Parachutes opens with "Don't Panic," the title of which is likely lifted from British mock sci-fi classic The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, despite the fact that the song has nothing to do with it. This subdued, dreamy opener contains Martin's falsetto chorus of "We live in a beautiful world," which seems to sum up the overall sentiment of the record; the record also closes with the inspirational swinger "Everything's Not Lost." Most of the other songs sort of drift in and out of consciousness, with the exception of the second track, "Shiver." It's the only truly decent song on Parachutes, but simultaneously, it's the only one that blatantly shows its influences. In fact, the influence can even be pinned to a single song: Jeff Buckley's "Grace." Martin has his Buckley impression down cold, complete with dynamic range and the trademark vibrato. But as enjoyable as the song may be, there's no question that Buckley did it better. And of course, you've probably heard their smash hit single, "Yellow," by now. Indeed, it's the most obvious choice for a single, and it represents Martin's vocal stylings effectively, but it's also the record's weakest moment. Buckland's grating, slightly tuneless guitars seem jarring, especially when sequenced in the middle of a series of songs that generally lack dissonance. And the saccharine lyrics are those that might have caused Mr. Gallagher's hypothetical remark: "Look at the stars/ Look how they shine for you/ And everything you do." You'd practically expect the band to show up at your doorstep with a wilting bouquet and Hallmark card. Parachutes is ultimately a promising debut for Coldplay, if by "promising," I mean, "promising them a windfall of cash and international popularity." If nothing else, it's harmless and pretty. Unfortunately, it's nothing else. If that's what you look for in your music, by all means, go for it. If you want substance, I suggest moving on.

— Spencer Owen, Pitchfork