From the archives: People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis. You can’t trust people.

It’s a cold December evening, somewhere between Christmas and New Year, and we’ve returned to the pub we frequented as teenagers, only now we’re actual grown-ups in our 30s.

We’re playing darts. Nothing too serious, but we’re all agreed that getting the arrows to stick in the right numbers still counts for something. Talk turns to music and, specifically, our bafflement at the continuing success of Emeli Sande, despite the fact that her recorded output is about as exciting as regrouting a shower.

“Music for people who don’t like music,” says one of my friends to nods and general murmurs of approval.

“Coffee table music,” I add, to yet more approval, “like Dido.”

I’m feeling over-confident now. This is it. I’m going to hit the ball right out of the park with my next comment. This will define the evening. Here I go.

“And Coldplay!”

Pause. Silence. The rest of the group turn to face me with a collective look that says one thing: I’ve gone too far this time.

“Ah, Coldplay are okay,” says one, and then with the tone of someone trying to deter a school bully from beating up a smaller kid: “Leave them alone.”

Another chips in: “Coldplay have done at least five or six amazing songs.”

I can’t believe my ears. I’ve misheard them. I MUST HAVE MISHEARD THEM.

“But, but… Coldplay?!” – that’s all I can muster. I’m not going to win this one. But it gets me thinking: why, exactly, do I detest Chris Martin and the three other blokes who aren’t Chris Martin so much?

Is it because their songs always sound half-finished, promising something they never deliver? Is it because I’d gain more musical fulfilment from watching an old grey coat for an hour? Is it because of Yellow, where Chris describes things being ‘all yellow’ in the manner of an eight-year-old reading a prayer in school assembly, or that mind-numbingly boring accompanying video where he – get this – walks along a freezing beach for a few minutes (if ever a video accurately represented a song)? Is it the band’s name, which sounds like the sort of word you’d come up with to cheat at Scrabble? Is it the fact that no one would have given a shit about Coldplay had they emerged at the height of Britpop and that their early success was probably really only down to good timing? What about the way Chris used to write slogans on his hands and wrap tape around his fingers like some sort of apologetic messiah? Or do they just make music for people who don’t like… oh, hang on.

I don’t think I can pinpoint a single reason. It’s probably all of those and probably none of them too. If there’s one thing I can be sure of, however, it’s that I definitely hated Coldplay before it was fashionable to do so, regardless of whether or not I had a valid reason.

Maybe one day I’ll work out exactly why I don’t like them, or perhaps I’ll eventually lose my mind and admit that, yeah, they’re okay. Shoot me.

Until then, my friends and I are going to have to agree to disagree. 

Originally published on It Is Happening Again on January 6, 2014.