Everyone has an opinion about Coldplay - and the best way to sum up X+Y is that it won't change a single one of those opinions. In other words, the third album from Chris Martin and co. is simply a slighter more muscular version of A Rush of Blood to the Head: heartfelt, elegiac indie-rock that's just dying to be given the stadium treatment. You can raise objections - the over-sincerity, the vagueness of Martin's lyrics, the lack of surprises on offer. But none of that seems to matter when you have a record stuffed with gloriously empathetic tunes that are destined be whistled by millions for at least the next twelve months. Sooner or later, of course, they'll have to try something different. But for now, at least, Coldplay are the people's choice - and they're filling the role brilliantly.
