Coldplay are world-beating but something seems to be troubling poor Chris Martin. Millions of personal funds, recession-proof maudlin music with vague poetic musings about something that's troubling Martin and a baby named after my computer, and still he's not happy. Lost is one of their more reverential songs on their new album celebrating Ricky Martin's better-known hit. It has a church organ plod throughout while Martin moans about being lost, or not being lost, he seems to change his mind throughout the song. There is a religious feel to the album version here. The stripped piano version is more bearable as it makes Martin less Jesus-like and the lyrics take on a slightly more emotive carriage despite their vagueness and complete lack of attachment to any real event or emotion. The live version is all We Will Rock You handclaps and bluster and doesn't really add anything to the song, even when the religious undertones hit the roof with a chorus of gospel choirage. Quite weirdly, at the end of the EP of different versions of the same song, Jay-Z crops up to deliver a verse of pure panache and class about his struggle, and you know what, you believe him because he has the power of empathy, the power of experience and hey, some actual tangible events to refer you to. Thank the heavens for Jay-Z sometimes. I can't believe I've written so many lines on a one track CD.
Hello and welcome and yeah... in an oversaturated blog-o-glob... we throw our 2 dubloons in.
Avocado Picker: 28, author, journalist... specialist subjects include: the Wire, the post X-Files career of Agent Scully, Bollywood music 1950-1970, Spider-man, Dare Devil, The Sopranos, British comedy 1990-present, the complete works of Chuck Palahniuk and Aniruddha Bahal, Arnie films pre- True Lies, and different uses for cheese in culinary situations.
The Mystery Voice: 30, software engineer, time waster... specialist subjects include: Linux (etc), C++ & PHP (and other animals, yawn), Physics (blah), British comedy past and present (yay), grand master Mornington Crescent (huh?), the incomplete works of Douglas Adams and Bill Bailey (wtf?)