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Preconceived notions aside – and that’s nearly impossible now – any band of grand Brits who wind up working with Brian Eno will come across sounding like U2 and Peter Gabriel. Sorry. But it’s the law. And while singer/lyricist Chris Martin and his unmerrie band of men have always gone for the muzzy, fussy, but big chest-beating, anthem, with the exception of its more piano laden tracks, there’s been no subtlety when and where C-play come to play.

Without a doubt, Martin takes both sides when it comes to confessional lyricism, offering up the tiniest of obsessively detailed pictures in some instances and high bold washes of gray that become mere platitude at other times. I’m talking respectively about the spooky soliloquy of “Cemeteries of London” and the fucking silly “Lost!” Yet, Martin the singer has figured a way to sell sentiments gi-hugic and miniscule. And they’re not always Bono’s ways. Score one for Martin.

Musically, the boys in the band and their egg-headed producer don’t go for the easy atmospheres. But they don’t avoid the obvious either. They seem to know what audiences might guess in advance and toy with minor key epiphanies (“Life in Technicolor”), rumbling epics (“42”- oy with the ghosts), breezy tribal stuff (“Strawberry Swing”), pop pomp (“Violet Hill”) and a messy white funk thing (“Chinese Sleep Chant”) that you just punch someone in the face for.

It’s pride. And it’s in the name of love. Just not always the names you’d expect.

Standout Tracks: “Violet Hill”  “Life in Technicolor” A.D. AMOROSI