Chris Martin is known for being a super-chill dude. The Coldplay singer seems perpetually at ease, consistently radiating a positive energy and a “let’s hug it out” vibe that has helped fill stadiums around the world (usually for three or more nights) for the past two years on his band’s record-setting Music of the Spheres tour.
And in a new Rolling Stone cover story, Martin seems, for the most part, completely unbothered, leaning into radical acceptance of what his band’s music means and how the world hears their operating thesis: peace and love are the answer.
“When I’m saying these things about world peace, I’m also talking about my own inside,” he told the magazine. “It’s a daily thing not to hate yourself. Forget about outside critics — it’s the inside ones, too. That’s really our mission right now: We are consciously trying to fly the flag for love being an approach to all things. There aren’t that many [groups] that get to champion that philosophy to that many people. So we do it. And I need to hear that too, so that I don’t give up and just become bitter and twisted and hidden away, and hate everybody. I don’t want to do that, but it’s so tempting.”
Much of the profile runs around a familiar topic: Coldplay not being cool. But after 28 years, 100 million albums and more than 10 million tickets sold on their tour to date , Martin, once again, said that he’s 100% okay with leaning into the Coldplay-ness of it all and not worrying what people say, or think, about his band.
“There’ve been times where we [were like], ‘Well, we should probably try and look a bit like this or talk a bit like that,’” Martin said about the constant pressure to change up from the group’s signature happy global peace warrior vibe. “And now, it’s just like, ‘No.’ Just follow whatever’s being sent. And that’s a very liberating place to be. If you want a puppet to sing a bit of a song, well, some people might not like this — my mum being one of them, for example. But my point is, that’s part of my journey to be like, ‘Well, I love you, and this is what we’re doing.”
Sure, they sing with puppets and wear themed outfits on their tours, and popped into QVC to hawk their latest album, Moon Music. But for Martin, the sometimes derisive slings and arrows are part of the “you do you, I’ll do me” game, something the preternaturally chill singer said he’s come to accept. “It would be terrible if we lived in a society where everyone had to [like the same thing]. We’re a very, very easy, safe target,” Martin said. “We’re not going to bite back. We are four white, middle-class men from England. We deserve to take some s–t for what our people have done. There’s a reason we get to play all around the world, and part of it is not necessarily very healthy.”
The Music of the Spheres tour is an overwhelming visual extravaganza, full of confetti, dancing aliens, four blasts of fireworks, kinetic dance floors, exercise bikes that power the satellite stage and enough unassailably sweet, moving moments that it can sometimes feel like Mickey Mouse’s Starlight Parade. Which, by the way, Martin is also totally fine with.
“Maybe the theatrics are all part of that. It’s a bit Disneyland-ish in terms of ‘OK, let’s exist for a couple of hours in this place where no one hates each other,’” he said. “The second-happiest place on Earth. Copyright, Coldplay.”
Martin appears open to speak about just about any topic — including his incessant teasing of son Moses, 18, and his endless love for daughter Apple, 20 — except his relationship with longtime love (and reported fiancée) actress Dakota Johnson. In the wake of tabloid rumors questioning whether their love light has faded, Martin told RS it is not his story to tell.
“It is important to say that [romantic love] is such a big factor in everything, even though it feels right to keep it precious and private; I’m not denying its power,” he said, though the writer noted that the singer mentioned Johnson in passing several times during their chats, including that they had listened to Kacey Musgraves’ Golden Hour album together recently. He also revealed that among his “handful” of best friends are Later, he says he has only a handful of best friends, among them Coldplay’s manager, his bandmates, his kids and Johnson.
Martin is also keenly aware of the boom-bust cycle of pop stardom and the toll it can take, noting that every year there’s a new artist that comes along, or releases an album that “puts you in your place,” leaving fellow musicians humbled and inspired. For him, that was Chappell Roan this year. “I hope she’s OK,” he said of the “Pink Pony Club” singer who has been frank about her struggles managing the suddenly intense spotlight.
“It’s hard for the younger ones, especially when they’re on their own,” he added, giving thanks that he’s had his three longtime friends/bandmates bassist Guy Berryman, guitarist Jonny Buckland and drummer Will Champion, along for the ride.
In the end, Martin summed up the tension of being both one of the most beloved and one of the most critically dunked-on bands on the planet. “It’s like you start off as a band with three fans and one guy at the bar who thinks you’re s–t. And then you get to a band with 3,000 fans and 10 guys on the internet who think you’re s–t,” he said. “And then as you become the biggest band in the world, you also become the least popular band in the world. You can never escape. You can never win, if you’re looking for just winning. The stronger the light, the darker the shadow.”
He also once again leaned into the notion that his band has only two more albums in the tank, an animated musical based on a story he and manager Phil Harvey are writing together, as well as a final, self-titled LP that will bring it back to the start. “The cover of the album I’ve known it since 1999,” he said of the image that harkens back to Coldplay’s very earliest days.
Oh, but also he’d love to release a compendium of all the songs that never made it onto a Coldplay album called Alphabetica, which will go through the alphabet thanks to outtakes and orphans that never made the cut. “We don’t have any spare songs with Q,” he lamented. “That’s the one I’m stuck with.”
