There's a school of thought that says you can get famous too quickly. To be honest most bands, slaving away in toilet venues and on an obscure indie label probably wouldn't agree, but when the rush comes it pays to be ready. Coldplay perhaps present a case in point. Having barely escaped university, their fame snowballed quickly from a mere few ep's to an album that quickly threatened to fly of the shelves. I remember watching them at Glastonbury 2000 and thinking this was a far larger crowd that a band this young had any right to expect.

However, the ghostly guitar and piano work, the consistently strong sense of melody and Chris Martin's nerve jangling voice added up to a delicious concoction. One magazine described it as "The sound of a student hall of residence", no higher praise perhaps.

A shame really, since on the evidence of 'A Rush of Blood to the Head', Coldplay are maturing into one of Britain's finest exports. As a sophomore record, this takes most of the reference points hinted at by their debut and gently develops them further. The outlook has darkened a little perhaps, there are hints of bitterness both musically and lyrically that were not really present on 'Parachutes'. Martin's vocals no longer seem quite so captured by self-doubt or racked with pleading. Instead a more mature approach is taken: 'Daylight' bristles with spine chilling strings, whilst the dense claustrophobic 'A Whisper' is almost menacing in its intensity. Gone too is any hint of the pop hooks of 'Yellow', none of these eleven tracks are likely to encircle you with infectious glee. Instead the subtler hooks creep up on the listener, slowly sinking into the subconscious until each melodic turn becomes second nature. The seeds of musical maturity sprinkled all over 'Parachutes' have blossomed delightfully here. By turns elegant and assured, Coldplay have mastered the epic format. A liberal helping of U2 at their most relaxed informs many of tracks on offer, whilst the Radiohead comparisons still justified, have become even more poignant given that bands current attempt at creative self destruction.

'In My Place' as the flyer single seems an appropriate place to begin. A ringing guitar line quickly joins a drum rhythm, which is curiously reminiscent of a slowed down 'Supersonic', whilst an organ hums subtly at the back of the mix, accompanying Martin's musings on the verse. The jump from the verse to chorus is carries with it strong echoes of 'Yellow', albeit in a slower form. The track is in fact, something of a misnomer for the album as a whole, given the friendly welcoming textures displayed. It sounds curiously like an amalgam of a number of other Coldplay songs rolled into one, thus threatening the verdict of Coldplay by numbers. However, the lovely harmonies on the chorus, and the semi hypnotic guitar line mean that the track gradually wins you over. The hook is sugar sweet, dripping with longing and loss. It could have easily fitted onto 'Parachutes' but it is a good starting place for fans looking for a comfort that the band haven't opted for a comlete about musical turn.

Not that the entire album aims to disturb, or even give continually perturbing melodies. Sitting alongside this more intense music is some of the most beautiful music Coldplay have recorded to date. 'The Scientist' is framed with the same lovely raining piano line that graced 'Trouble' but this time rendered in a major key, thus radiating warmth, yet with a certain delicious resigned sadness to it. Building nicely, from the gently swirling verse into a chorus, which floats gradually skywards, never quite taking off with the inherent melancholy, before the drums and bass really develop the backing. The chorus really takes lift on the second refrain, the hook subtle enough to slip under your skin when you're not watching and swirl infinitely in your brain in a delightful fashion. The lyric has a hint of everyman angst "No body said it was easy / Its such a shame for us to part,", sufficiently ambiguous in meaning to appeal across a range of emotions. The closing guitar coda has just enough bite to conclude things nicely and helps the track preserve an air of frail power; even Martin's attempts at howling on the fadeout cannot destroy a simply superb piece of music.

If the album is lacking anything it is perhaps a supply of obvious singles after 'In my Place'. The closest we get are a pair of mid paced tracks towards the centre of the record. 'Warning Sign', opens with a lightly strummed electric guitar before a firm beat and a string section take control with the guitar swirling delightfully. Again the verse is sparse, just Martin's voice and that guitar, before the band kick in to move the track towards the bridge. The chorus swoons effortlessly and oozes hopeless romanticism, "For the truth is / I miss you,", with Martin's conviction never wavering, although his heart appears to be. The break down to mere piano and pained vocal may not translate to massive radio play, but on an album format it enriches the track nicely.