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Square One – Coldplay: Coldplay opened X&Y with a three-note fanfare lifted toward 2001: A

X&Y opener, 2005: three notes, then the widescreen album starts

The first thing you hear is a three-note figure that nods toward Strauss and Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Then Will Champion’s drums lock, Guy Berryman’s bass thickens, and Chris Martin’s vocal rides a mix built for headphones and stadiums at once. Square One opens Coldplay’s third album X&Y, released 6 June 2005 on Parlophone. It is not the lead single. It is the statement of scale: after the long, turbulent sessions of 2004, the band wanted the record to feel wider than Parachutes or A Rush of Blood to the Head, and the opener says so in under a minute.

Ken Nelson had produced the first two albums. For X&Y the band also worked with Danton Supple and themselves, discarding whole batches of songs before the released track list stuck. Manager and creative foil Phil Harvey was largely absent from that creative loop, a first for the group, and the pressure shows in the lyric: being watched, starting again, hunting a signal in the noise. Distorted guitars sit under clean piano. The chorus widens without collapsing into a soft ballad. You feel the band testing how big they can sound without losing Martin’s voice as the centre.

Live, Square One often launched early X&Y sets and later festival slots such as Austin City Limits and Glastonbury. The three-note motif gave lighting desks an easy cue and crowds a chant before the first verse even landed. Audiences learned to shout the title phrase even when radio preferred Speed of Sound and Fix You. Inside the album sequence it does the job of a cold open: announce the palette, then hand the baton to What If.

We wanted to try new things out, to move our sound along. But the focus remains on the songs.

(Jonny Buckland, on the X&Y sessions)

Critics split on whether the album’s size served every song. Few argued with the opener’s clarity of intent. Square One told you the band had left the bedroom-scale intimacy of 2000 and was writing for rooms that already knew every word of Clocks.

Play it at the top of the album again and the fanfare still works as a door. Behind it sits a denser Coldplay, still built on Martin’s voice and Champion’s pulse, but no longer pretending to be small. That honesty of scale is why the track still opens deep-cut playlists of the mid-2000s era: press play, hear the three notes, and the widescreen record begins.

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