I’ll admit it: Coldplay set my teeth on edge. When I hear one of their tracks on the radio, I am gripped by an irresistible compulsion to play Slayer on my turntable. The fact that the band has nine Brit Awards to its name baffles me.
And yet when it comes to outstanding contributions to the British economy – if not, perhaps, to music – I really get it. The four-piece once memorably described by Oasis’s manager Alan McGee as “bedwetters” are one of our biggest export earners and, though it pains me to say it, cultural assets.
Celebrating its 25th anniversary, the band is set to become the world’s highest-grossing touring act, surpassing even the likes of Taylor Swift. It’s thanks in part to their 10-show residency at Wembley Stadium this summer, which broke various records, including the one previously set last year by Swift’s Eras tour.
According to Billboard Boxscore, since it launched in March 2022, the Music of the Spheres tour has grossed $945.7m (£698m), and counting. The sale of 8.8 million tickets represents a high watermark for a rock act.
With the band now reputedly earning £5 million a show, it’s no surprise they’ve just announced they will stay on the road well into 2027, adding a further 138 tour dates.
It is quite the achievement for four lads who met at university and formed an indie band, as so many do, only for their act to explode in a way that only a tiny, tiny fraction ever achieves. They deliver a vital shot in the arm to a UK economy desperately in need of something – anything.
Radio-friendly middle-of-the-road music of the kind served up by Coldplay has always found a ready market. Look at The Eagles, who’ve sold more than 200 million records and whose tours have posted some impressive figures.
What’s interesting about Coldplay is the time they emerged: at the height of CD sales and just as Britpop was going off the boil. Their debut album, Parachutes, was released in 2000, at the point when Radiohead, spooked by the global success of their album OK Computer, abandoned traditional melodic song structures in favour of wildly experimental electronica.
It would be much harder, and require even more luck, for an indie-ish band to break out in this way today. Smaller gig venues, where acts can build their fanbase, have been closing across the country, with the hospitality industry as a whole struggling thanks to punitive costs loaded onto it by Rachel Reeves’ tax rises. Organisations like the Music Venue Trust are trying to address the situation by providing grants, but live performing is a hard road.
Where shifting album units, promoted by hit singles and international tours, was once the name of the game, the industry’s dynamics have changed – and not in a way that favours new acts, or smaller acts. Mercury Prize-nominated Nadine Shah told MPs she was struggling to make rent. Kate Nash chose to highlight the dismal revenues from streaming and smaller tours by launching an OnlyFans account dedicated to her derriere. Tom Gray, lead singer with Gomez, founded the Broken Record Campaign to press for fairer remuneration.
It’s needed: music streaming has made record companies fabulously rich, catalysing an industry-wide revival and providing a handy new revenue stream for the giants of the business. However, those who can’t rely on millions upon millions of Spotify streams earn a pittance.
If Chris Martin and co were starting out today, in the digital era, could they make it quite so big with their music of the spheres? I suspect the answer would be in the lap of the gods.
