Coldplay at Glastonbury 2024: Tired virtue signalling starkly reflective of the festival’s own
“Leave no trace.” That’s the Glastonbury motto. But ahead of their fifth headline slot at the festival’s Pyramid Stage, Coldplay handed out over 100,000 plastic LED wristbands just for a limp show of flashing wrists in lieu of staging. Everyone was told to return them to info points after the set, but naturally, as people rushed out to their late-night stops, moments after, the ground was littered with thousands of white plastic blobs trampled into the soil or chucked into bins. Thus began a night of Coldplay’s staggering virtual signalling, in keeping with the festival’s own.
“Not Fucking Coldplay Again,” read a woman’s t-shirt, over by The Park Stage at 4pm. One slogan perfectly captures the atmosphere that did and should surround Chris Martin and co’s history-making return to the stage. The band last headlined in 2016, before that it was 2011, 2005 and 2002. It doesn’t feel like a worthy return and hasn’t for decades. Especially in the gap between the last headline show and this one, it’s hard to understand what the Eavis think Coldplay have done that’s artistically notable enough to warrant the slot aside from collaborating with James Corden.
Sure, they remain one of the most famous bands in the world, but they’re stagnant. Their recent albums have done nothing but extend their coast along, keeping them in stadiums sure but fostering no real excitement outside of their usual mumsy crowd. Much like the rest of the pop headliners on the Pyramid stage this year, they’re a safe option. Of course, their are plenty of families at the festival and they too must be satisfied, but wheeling out the turgid mainstream for more of the same undermines the fact that families can also enjoy progressive art.
That alone feels symptomatic of Glastonbury’s own downfall, which is most certainly its growth. When the band first headlined in 2002, it was a gutsy move. They were relatively new, still rough around the edges and only just starting to level-up their music to a sound big enough to fill the space. The history of the festival is built on such risks. The Eavis’ used to be willing to take a chance on an exciting new act, often predicting some names that became icons: The Cure, Pulp, Arctic Monkeys and so on.
Fontaines D.C, should have been on that list. But instead, 2024 is ruled over by tired, easy moves, like letting Coldplay headline, again, in an attempt to find someone to please the swollen mass of the crowd as the festival becomes a bigger and more commercial operation.
That tiredness extended into their set. Sure, there were moments of musical greatness, as the band hasn’t got this big for no reason. Earlier tracks like ‘Yellow’ and ‘Fix You’ naturally sounded incredible when sung out by hundreds of thousands. The spectacle was undeniable. Millions watching on at home will no doubt have been swept up in the same goodwill maelstrom that about 60% of the crowd also got whirled in.
Victoria Canal’s brief appearance for ‘Paradise’ was a stunning if all-too-fleeting moment, and Martin’s stripped-back rendition of ‘Sparks’ was a highlight. But for their fifth outing, the set was void of any true excitement from the group. With no real spectacle beyond some fireworks, confetti and the polluting wrist straps, there were also just a few token emotional moments as Martin gushed about the humans of Glastonbury, but with the same energy level he brings to any show. They felt like rehearsed moments, blocked into the setlist and repeated time and time again world round, carefully considered to be politically ambiguous and inoffensive as possible. That’s fine and dandy, but does it do anything to shift the zeitgeist in any exciting fashion?
For many, as the duller moments prompted clarity to dawn, their platform seemed wasted on pure pleasentry. Across the weekend, plenty of artists have used their stage time to send messages of solidarity to Palestinians, promote voting, or boycotts or various other statements. Banksy even turned Idles turned their whole set into a piece of protest art, while names like The Last Dinner Party, Lambrini Girls and Lankum used their hype for good as they spoke out on issues.
Standing in front of an estimated 100,000 people with 7.6 million more tuning in on the BBC, Coldplay could have had a major influence. They debuted their new song, ‘We Pray’ with Little Simz, Elyanna and Baltic String Orchestra. The lyrics are all about praying you see the end of the day and survive. They’re up there singing it with a Palestinian musician. But the band not only made no real introduction for Elyanna beyond an easily-missed name drop but then launched into a statement, so on the fence, it feels out of touch.
“Just raise your hands like this and turn towards the main stage like this. Now, we’re gonna send a big Glastonbury love thing,” in a drab ‘rich hippie’ oration. “You can send it to anyone: you can send it to your grandmother, you can send it to Israel, you can send it to Palestine, you can send it to Myanmar,” he continued, with an audible gasp in my area of the crowd when he led with Isreal. But then it got worse as he extended his non-political approach to another major conflict; “You can send it to Ukraine, you can send it to peaceful Russia. You can send it anywhere – you can send it all over the world from Glastonbury.”
It was the typical ambivalent comment that so often comes from major celebs who care more about protecting their mass income than using their position for good. Of course, he could argue that there’s enough political posturing about and he wanted to send out a more nuanced message of simple love, but then why even bother? Let the music do that alone and espouse something a bit more impassioned on that front, like Yard Act – shoved onto a smaller stage, despite their growing status – before them.
Glastonbury is supposed to pride itself on being a forward-thinking, political place. The whole grounds are covered in handmade slogan-laden artwork that gives the place the air of being a kind of haven for people on the right side of history, but in reality, it is nothing but virtue signalling. It’s the same energy that populates things like Terminal One, an ’immersive experience’ where drunk revellers can laugh their way through the migrant crisis, or areas where entry demands people to disclose a political wish for the world just to use a photo booth. Coldplay’s set, just like the rest of Glastonbury by 2024, is nothing but surface-level politics that goes no further into the problem or the solution than the commercially safe “love each other” statement will afford… and it is rotten with privilege.
The show was sweet, up-beat, and perfectly pleasent. But if you’re not criticising Coldplay’s fifth outing as safe sycophantism for the moneyed masses, then where does this end? And how on earth will the next Arctic Monkeys of 2007 – just two records into their reign – ever make it to the once lauded Pyramid Stage?
