I have a fairly diverse range of musical tastes, the one thing 98.7% of the albums and artists I like have in common is wifey doesn’t like them. That’s understandable, there aren’t many of the Stock Atkin and Waterman generation that grew up listening to the new folk revival stuff and later developed a perchance for 70’s progressive rock, so I’ll let her off.
So there was much rejoicing last year when, late to the party as ever, I picked up Viva la Vida, the latest Coldplay album. Finally I was coming in from the cold, and listening to some modern stuff instead of King Crimson or Captain Beefheart. However wifey isn’t much of a fan of it as its not the classic Coldplay sound.
Likewise I have been roundly ridiculed for owning it. Putting it in a list of my favourite albums of the decade earned me the following comments from my online buddies:
You are dead to me.
Coldplay is to music what a steaming great poo is to interior decor.
I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole.
So there you have it, an album that managed to offend existing Coldplay fans but equally still attract scorn and ridicule from people that label anything that sells more than 1,000 copies as populist claptrap.
I’m off to sulk and listen to the Bonzo Dog Doodah Band. Laters.