Coldplay - Christmas Lights (7") - 45RPM

Walk into any shop in December and you will probably hear a dozen tired covers of the same carols, which is why Coldplay’s Christmas Lights still feels like a small mercy. Released on 1 December 2010 through Parlophone, it arrived in that space between Viva la Vida and Mylo Xyloto, a standalone digital single that didn’t need the weight of an album to land. It is simple on paper, piano and a bruised melody, but it carries that unmistakable Coldplay lift, the one that sneaks up from a sad corner and turns into something quietly hopeful.

Chris Martin begins at the keys, voice close and a little frayed, and the song eases into a lilting pulse that feels like a waltz through light rain on Oxford Street. Strings gather, Jonny Buckland’s guitar glows at the edges, Will Champion’s drums come in like a heartbeat remembered rather than announced. The lyric is just melancholy enough to be honest about how the holidays can sting, then it offers a hand. There is no glitzed up sleigh bell gimmickry, just a band trusting their craft, humming along a melody that sticks after one listen. When Martin sings may all your troubles soon be gone, it does not feel like a tidy moral, more a wish whispered into cold air.

The video sealed its status as a seasonal staple. Longtime collaborator Mat Whitecross filmed the band on the South Bank of the Thames, the skyline behind them and a small stage bedecked with, of course, Christmas lights. It plays like a single take, the camera gliding from a lonely walk to a communal performance, and it eats up little details, three violinists in Elvis jumpsuits, the cheeky Latin banner Credo Elvem Etiam Vivere drifting overhead, fireworks turning grey London into a postcard. Coldplay have done grander visuals, but this one fits the song’s scale, close to street level, warm, a bit daft, genuinely sweet.

Part of why it works is that it sidesteps schmaltz without going full cynic. Plenty of modern holiday originals mistake irony for wit or pile on sugar until the teeth ache. Christmas Lights wears its heartbreak and hope side by side. It is the same trick that made Fix You and The Scientist resonate, a focus on melody and release rather than cleverness. You can hear that push and pull in the arrangement too, verses that sway, a chorus that lifts just enough to catch breath, then a final swell that sends you on your way. It is also lean, in and out before it gets heavy, which makes it easy to replay when the weekend barbie stretches into another round.

Given its timing, it also acts like a bridge, a postcard showing where the band had been and where they were going. The stately sweep and earthy piano nod back to Viva la Vida’s craft, while the colour and glow hint at the pop brightness that would explode on Mylo Xyloto. It is only a few minutes long, yet it manages to feel like a tiny career crossroads that just happens to be dressed in fairy lights.

If you collect Coldplay vinyl, you probably keep this track handy on a playlist for when the needle drops on Parachutes or A Rush of Blood to the Head during December. The single arrived digitally, so you will be pairing streams with the warm thrum of wax, but it slots neatly into a festive spin session all the same. Put it between Jona Lewie and The Pogues and it holds its ground, more candlelit than rowdy, still distinctly Coldplay. Search habits say it all, people go looking for Christmas Lights vinyl every year because the song feels like it ought to live on a 7-inch you pull out with the tinsel.

For crate diggers in a Melbourne record store, this is the kind of tune you cue up in your headphones while you flick through racks, all the better if the rain has just cleared and the footpath smells like summer. If you prefer to buy Coldplay records online, easy, there are plenty of Coldplay albums on vinyl to wrap under the tree, and this track makes a lovely digital companion when the platter spins. However you get there, in a living room in Brisbane lined with vinyl records Australia has shipped in time or through a tiny Bluetooth speaker at the beach, Christmas Lights earns its keep. It is not trying to be a classic, yet it has quietly become one, the rare modern holiday song that treats listeners like grown ups, and still sends them off with a glimmer.