Singing with gentle sorrow about repression, conflict and racism on the mellifluous Trouble in Town, Coldplay frontman Chris Martin interrupts his litany of despair to softly proclaim: “Oh my goodness, there’s blood on the beat.” It may be the politest and most English cri de coeur ever laid down on record, and yet no less effective for it. Perhaps because goodness is at the very heart of Coldplay, a band who believe in the power of music to uplift and transform, who play as if they can save the world with a melody.

As the quartet deftly change gear, opening out into a wild, free-flowing jazzy tumble beneath a news recording of an aggressive US policeman, the effect is gripping and devastating, because it feels like the politest band on earth being pushed to the very end of their tether.

Like their heroes U2, Coldplay are so utterly sincere and entirely lacking in the couldn’t-give-a-damn posturing that passes for coolness in rock culture, you sometimes feel you have to apologise for liking them. Which is ridiculous given all they have achieved.

They are one of the greatest British bands of this century, and certainly the most popular. Starting with Parachutes in 2000, Coldplay have released seven multi-million selling albums, their atmospheric and emotional singalong anthems filling stadiums. But where do you go when you are already one of the biggest bands in the world? Even bigger is not always better.