Dear Coldplay

Dear Coldplay,

Let me begin by letting you know how sorry I am for the way I have behaved. Way back in 2001 when I first met the woman who would someday be my wife, we listened to Parachutes all the time, loving every minute of it. It was our go to album on late mornings in bed and on the long trips between Rochester and my house in New Jersey. Consequently, tracks such as Shiver and We Never Change now transport us back to simpler (read no kids) times.

In the years since, you have put out three full length albums and at one time or another each may as well have been the sole occupant of my Ipod. An old friend of mine would have referred to this repetitive consumption as a Coldplay “dog diet.”

Then a funny thing happened. People in my life who had never listened to your first album started hearing the singles from A Rush of Blood to the Head and going ga ga for them. Soon The Scientist was not only on my most played list, but everyone else’s too. I knew that there was trouble on the horizon when my brother, whom I played Parachutes for two years earlier to sour reviews, asked me if I had the new Coldplay album yet.

We live in a cynical, snarky world. No one is immune to the temptation of disparaging the popular or the successful. Like baseball fans hating the Yankees or voters turning on Hillary, I started to publicly change my view on your talents. By the time X&Y came out, I was proudly telling anyone that would listen, that the “elevator” music you were making was fine to relax too, but as a real connoisseur I preferred something more “indie,” like Arcade Fire.

Now though, as a more confident man I can come out and tell you that you have always held a special place in my heart. While I was making fun of your songs to the people who loved them, I was playing Fix You every morning on my way to work and making playlists of my ten favorite tracks anytime I need a little pick-me-up.

So with the release of Viva la Vida I want to tell you, publicly, that I’m a big fan. There are still lingering feelings of girliness on my part for enjoying Lovers in Japan so much. But I play it about ten times a day and can’t hide it anymore. I’m sure the people that have seen me belting it out behind the closed windows of my car would agree. I’m just smitten.

From here on out you can count on me for an honest assessment of you efforts; no matter the looks I get from anyone who claims they are real listeners of music. I can just see my brother-in-law’s face when he sees this week’s playlist. All Coldplay, all the time. Haters be damned.

Well, see you soon, and good luck,

Joe