Taking notes from their more melodramatic brethren Mansun and the Manic Street Preachers, Coldplay seem to have woken up from the dreamy stupor of Parachutes and have turned in a jangly good second effort.

Parachutes always felt slightly wan, as if the boys were content to slowly float down to earth instead of rising above it. But A Rush of Blood to the Head is exactly that—cheeks are flushed, lyrics are forceful. It's orchestral and moody as hell, morose and slightly paranoid, heartfelt and nearly hopeful. Coldplay makes every effort to be meaningful and weighty here, from liner notes about fair trade to the banishment of that bashful tremor in Chris Martin's soaring vocals. Yet, they haven't wandered far from the deliciously romantic longing that made "Yellow" a standout hit on Parachutes.

In an odd turnabout, this CD is actually a bit darker, yet feels altogether happier. That wooden house that they wanted to buy so they'd have more friends around? This time Martin threatens to burn it down. Yet, as he also sings in "Daylight", Coldplay has slowly broken through to the daylight, or at least some area of England where the sun shines every once in awhile and they've definitely found a place where the term "sophomore slump" doesn't exist. This second CD easily outshines their first rather shiny effort. When Martin opines that "God gave me style/God gave me grace," it may be unabashedly egotistical but it's awfully true. A Rush of Blood to the Head takes Coldplay from the "potential one hit wonder" category and firmly establishes them as "most likely to succeed."

  Laura Tiffany


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