I don't believe it is my fault that Chris Martin is one of the most annoying men on the planet. It is his. I have never met anybody who mixes false humility with overreaching, overbearing self-love so easily and so consistently.
The man smacks of Public School Pratt: if he wasn't bullied in Grammer school, Rugby ain't what it used to be. He is a mix of a loathsome self-haing "mustn't grumble" working class, but really middle reaching for upper class English man and priggish implicitly self-importnat piglet.
Pushing the latest Coldplay album, he went from saying marrying Gwynneth Paltrow was like winning the lottery (why? everybody can see exactly what she's like) and this choice nugget of self regard off the new York Times which occured soon after he apologized for being late even though he was early: "I was watching a lot about ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town,’ and a lot about ‘Blonde on Blonde’ and ‘Sgt. Pepper’s’ and all these real albums,” said Mr. Martin, who at 34 still has the glow of a young man amazed by his good fortune, on the new album: “And I realized that we had to make a decision. Even though the album is an endangered species, can we try and make a coherent and good one, even if it’s like making a horse and cart at a Nascar conference?”
It is hard to know where to put the scapel to this blithering nonsense. The fathead is RECORDING A FUCKING ALBUM… guess how many people have done that this year? Now guess how many will be better than this betweeters latest effort, which started by ripping off Peter Allen.