Chris Martin is all about energy — born and raised in the peak era of the Duracell bunny adverts, it is as if he watched that amped-up rabbit who kept on going and kept on racking up sales, and thought: “That guy — that is who I am going to be!” And as Coldplay headline Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage for a record fifth time, Martin quite simply never stops, whether he’s at the piano, for an energetic blast of the driving anthem Clocks; or during the euphoric release of the tom-tom drum-led mega-anthem Viva La Vida, during which he runs, leaps, semi-cartwheels and almost flies. He also barely ever stops talking — like the world’s worst monk, Martin abhors silence or, indeed, pause: full-on emotion and motion.
“This is the greatest city on earth,” he says during a mini-pause, before talking about wellies and needing to pee. “This is our favourite thing to do.” Then he bounds off, on legs made of elastic.
And this of course is the reason Coldplay were invited back to Worthy Farm. When it was announced earlier this year that the band would headline Glastonbury, one critic wrote an article asking: “Why are Coldplay always playing Glastonbury?” Well, it is not rocket science. They are, quite simply, the best live act around, with the planet’s most engaged frontman — the stadium act equivalent of a July 4 fireworks display: lights, optimism, community, vivid colours and talks of freedom. There is an argument that anyone who says they do not like Coldplay simply have not seen Coldplay live and, tonight, that argument feels stronger than ever. Especially when they bring out Michael J Fox — more on that later.
It starts — well, it didn’t start slowly, did it? They open with Yellow, the song that started all of this. There are ample fireworks and confetti by song two, Higher Power. Balloons by song three. And they do not flinch on playing big hits early either. The Scientist, arguably the song that cemented the band’s forever status, is played in the rush while the aforementioned Viva La Vida is in the early stretch too.
What is striking is how confident, but connected the band are. Martin started as an awkward frontman, singing sad songs about not going on dates, but it is as if they took Alan McGee’s criticism of them in 2000 as “music to wet your bed to” as a personal affront and embarked on a 20-year gym and self-assertiveness course and wound up where they are now — beefed up, singing bangers.
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The issue for Coldplay is that their fans tend to fall into two categories — the ones at university when their first two albums, Parachutes and A Rush of Blood to the Head came out, and would rather they just played those guitar anthems back to back. Then there are the other set, who see Coldplay as the pop band they are, not a rock band. The set needs to keep both on board and they do this by, smartly, dovetailing older and new songs — Clocks into Hymn For the Weekend into, much later, a pin-drop first album Sparks — turning said early-years hits into a Coldplay rave. The Waitrose of raves.
These tweaks and, of course, the aforementioned energy of Martin, are what makes this gig work. There are diversions, into Arabesque, from the underrated Everyday Life album. And there are lulls, the bit with the heads, the videoed-in K-Pop collaboration song. But when the song isn’t for you, something saves the moment. Fireworks, lights, great expense. The wriststrap lights that they started, and it remains a mystery that more mega acts haven’t copied. The band want everyone to stay on board, even those only here out of curiosity.
The guest acts are more thoughtful than particularly glittery. Friend of the band Victoria Canal plays Paradise with the zest of someone having the best night of her life, while Little Simz duets on a brand new song. And then there is Michael Eavis, “a living legend”. Martin sings a song about him, of course. “A musical charmer, the world’s greatest farmer.” After him? Michael J Fox, “another legendary Michael”. The actor has had Parkinson’s for 25 years and comes on, of course, in a wheelchair. Back To The Future made Martin want to make music and the men play along with each other — Martin referencing the scene of Biff Tannen and Johnny B Goode. It is nostalgic, moving and entirely unexpected.
Coldplay want to be the people’s band and if there is one song that enables them to claim that crown it is the main closer Fix You, the closest this country has come to a hymn in years. A few years ago, at Wembley Stadium, I saw a father cradling his heavily disabled daughter during the song and live, Fix You has that spiritual feeling of wounds being healed, tears being streamed down faces — the sort of reaction to a song that makes any cynicism simply look out of place. He sings it with Fox. It is the undoubted highlight of the night.
Before the gig, a friend said we all know what to expect from a Coldplay gig. After all, they’ve done it before: “Explosion of colour, celebration of music. They’ve still got it. Platforming new artists. Bringing a divided world together,” he texted me and he was right — they do all that, but everyone leaves wanting them to do it again.
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★★★★★
