The latest pretenders after Radiohead's complaint-rock crown initially seem to be hewn from the same ice block as Thom's bro's band, The Unbelievable Truth. Both offer unadorned, soul-baring classicist indie. But while the Truth opt for monochrome existential angst, Coldplay see life from inside a rainbow-coloured bubble.

So non-toxic as to make Travis seem like darklords of hazchem vitriol, Coldplay leak simple, unencumbered loveliness. Thus, in place oflyrical nasties about unborn chickens comes humanitarian concerns such as "I wake to see that no-one is free / We're all fugitives" ['Spies'].

These scrupulous youngsters are so wirried by charges of Radiohead-pilfering that singer Chris Martin has admitted to dropping his Thom Yorke treble. But 'Parachutes' also travels past traces of Jeff Buckley and Nick Drake in 'Sparks' and 'Shiver'. It ends, a long way from Oxford, in a happy fusion of The Beatles 'She Came in Through the Bathroom Window' and Primal Scream's 'I'm Losing More Than I'll Ever Have' ['Everything's Not Lost'] then a nugget of 'Harvest'-era Neil Young ['Life's For Living']. An undemanding but utterly adorable debut.

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