Pitchfork

Coldplay are arguably the world's biggest rock band, so according to my indie rock guidebook, I should treat them with smugness and derision. In the past, Pitchfork has only given them compliments as if they were confessions-- and the site wasn't alone (or necessarily wrong), either. There was a time when writing about Coldplay meant unfavorable Travis comparisons (!), trying to sort out exactly what the hell "Yellow" was meant to be referring to (I still have no clue), and gleefully reporting that singer and lyricist Chris Martin admitted he was drained of ideas after the release of their debut album.

But a funny thing happened to Coldplay on the way to their plot in the post-Bends cemetery next to Starsailor and Lowgold: they got wildly popular. What's more, the band sharpened their skills and that weariness Martin felt trying to write A Rush of Blood to the Head translated into a handful of affecting, populist tracks. Martin's exhaustion exposed his wounds and shrouded them in swirling, melodic arrangements, and while Coldplay may not have taken Radiohead's crown as the Thinking Man's Arena Rock Band, with "In My Place", "The Scientist", and especially "Clocks" they sort of became the Feeling Man's Arena Rock Band.

It wasn't really a transformation, just an improvement, that made Coldplay one of a handful of artists who bestrode 2003 by slowly winning over their dissenters and the disbelievers-- and by the time the critical establishment rediscovered the band, they ironically had to cast aside their preconceptions in much the same way that they'd done eight years earlier with The Bends. It's fitting, then, that Coldplay's year ends with a live CD and DVD recorded in Sydney-- a documentation of them engaging with their public, those who were at their side from the start.

The decision to package both of these releases together for the same price as either would command on its own helps make what could be seen as a cash-in more of a bargain thank-you. The disc omits five of the tracks from the DVD, including the fan favorite "Don't Panic", the singles "Trouble" and "The Scientist", and "Daylight", which would have been a welcome mood-changer for this often middle-of-the-road set. The band does little here to brush off their reputations as rock's nice, dull bunch, offering hopeful sentiments like, "We sincerely hope you have the best evening of your lives," and, "There's no excuse to be sat down during this song. If you stand up we promise to buy you all ice cream."

The live performance seems more stirring than rousing-- the old softie onstage would rather you put your arms around your best girl or guy than your mates-- and if Martin's guy-next-door stuff isn't part of the band's appeal for you, it may bring on a wince. Another unfortunate downside to the set's prevailing mood is that, at around the halfway mark, Martin's recommendation that "this would be a great time for you to start singing with us" stretches a campfire singalong version of "Everything's Not Lost" to nearly nine minutes and my patience well past its breaking point.

The hits and the better album tracks from A Rush of Blood (the driving "Politik" and "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face") shine brightest, but there's little here for the novice. Rarities include the acoustic-based "See You Soon" from The Blue Room EP and B-side "One I Love", a guitar-driven track which is one of the most Echo & The Bunnymen-like things Coldplay have ever done, with Martin's voice even taking on a touch of McCulloch's brooding baritone. New track "Moses", meanwhile, is gutsy and crisp, indicating that Martin may have restored his confidence-- something that might not play to the strengths of a band that's best with its heart on its sleeve.

Chris Martin's humility and honesty-- as evidenced by his admissions about the state of his writer's block and/or prolificacy-- are often construed as either bravado or proof of the band's inadequacy. I side with bravado, contending that he likely respects his art enough not to go through the motions and finds strength in appealing to a large audience. After all, Coldplay sound better the bigger they are: Some artists just wouldn't work as a passed secret, and they're one of them. It was this ubiquity that won over unlikely fans such as Timbaland, Jay-Z, and Justin Timberlake, and elevated them past yer Stripes and Good Charlottes and Linkin Parks on the rock star ladder this year. The challenge now is in holding that spot, and that's what's going to determine whether this live record turns out to be their Rattle & Hum-- a document of the band at their commercial and, some might say, artistic peak-- or merely their Wide Awake in America, with something more improbably adventurous and potentially soul-enriching yet to come.