Truth From Understated Coldplay

If the British rock band Coldplay were a movie, it would likely be co-billed someday in revival theaters with “You Can Count on Me.”

Like that warm and convincing film about a brother and sister’s struggle to support each other, Coldplay’s music speaks of life in ways that carry the poetry of truth.

In its formal Los Angeles debut Tuesday at the Mayan Theatre, Coldplay, already a critical and commercial favorite in England, accentuated the gentle optimism and intimacy of its songs with a decidedly understated--though never cold--delivery. A better name for the group might even be Warmplay.

If you didn’t know better, you might even have thought Coldplay was the opening act Tuesday.

Powderfinger, the actual opener, is an Australian quintet with a more aggressive stage manner, a set of more anthem-minded, arena-ready tunes and two video screens to liven up its presentation.

Coldplay’s only touch of show-biz flash was a small, illuminated globe on a speaker cabinet. Like the music itself, the band members were modest and reserved--going about their business as casually as if the concert were a TV show rehearsal.

But all this worked worked in Coldplay’s favor.

At a time when so much of U.S. commercial rock is taken up with paint-by-number anger and aggression, a band with its own voice and a down-to-earth approach is doubly rewarding.

That’s not to say Powderfinger, too, doesn’t have potential. Some of the group’s songs are striking, but the band is generally headed down a familiar path--a band that most certainly has studied rock history and adopted many of the proven characteristics of successful groups. Powderfinger may have hits, but there isn’t much to suggest that they are going to lead us to any discoveries, musically or thematically.

Coldplay, which played a second sold-out Mayan show Wednesday, has probably spent just as much time daydreaming about stardom, but the music seems more thoughtful and personal--a band with the potential to actually lead us into new territory.

Singer Chris Martin, who shifted between acoustic guitar and electric keyboards, reminded you vocally in places of the droning ache of Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, but he punctuated his delivery with falsetto touches and semi-conversational asides.

Bassist Guy Berryman, drummer Will Champion and guitarist Jon Buckland offered mostly soft punctuation, except when Buckland stepped in for some showcase solos. His playing in these times was so sweet and soaring that the guitar notes beautifully frame the elements of hope that soften the moments of darkness in Martin’s sometimes troubled outlook.

“Look at the stars/ Look how they shine for you,” Martin declared in “Yellow,” a college rock-radio hit in the spirit-lifting thematic tradition of Oasis’ “Live Forever” and “Wonderwall.”

The band followed “Yellow” with “Everything’s Not Lost,” a song of equal fervor and feeling. The latter is a more complex expression of support, the kind of pep talk you could envision Tom Waits giving in one of his barroom commentaries.

Along with Travis and other thoughtful young bands with an accessible, mainstream edge, Coldplay makes music that feels like it comes from the heart, never contrived in the ways that encourage us to talk about movies and music as “product.”