Coldplay

On its 2000 debut, Coldplay sounded like a band that took Radiohead’s “Knives Out” a bit too literally, slicing and dicing that group’s sound to bits, trimming away all the ambition in favor of sheer digestibility. Ironically, it only made Coldplay that much harder to swallow — especially with a singer who sounds like a British Dave Matthews and a melancholy as monochromatic as the title of its breakout single, “Yellow.”

But on its exceptional second album, Coldplay rebounds with a much stronger blend of austerity and adventure. Yes, the Radiohead comparisons are still apt, primarily because the progression this band has made from its debut is almost as striking as Thom Yorke and co.’s development from Pablo Honey to The Bends. A symphonic slow burn, A Rush of Blood to the Head blends throbbing piano and papier-mâché vocals into satisfying crescendos. The group’s disquieting rockers are equally clamorous and calming, and it anchors its beatific, bracing ballads with backbeats that belong on the Autobahn.