More like Lukewarmplay am I right

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[4.18]

Mallory O’Donnell: In which the winners of the Coldplay Fan Slant Rhyme Couplet Writing Competition are set to a track which starts off with a nearly-promising Eurovision-esque string-and-stomp which, in true Coldplay fashion, completely pusses out almost immediately.
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Anthony Easton: Para para paralyzed by this — not by its boredom, but by an ambition that fails completely. Martin’s voice has potential, the musical notations have a swing to them, the chorus tries to work up to something profound, and the lyrics function as a kind of universal quality — an excellent example of studio magic, and I really can’t hate them for that, but it’s like a baked alaska that falls apart in the oven, and you’re left with blackened meringue and melted ice cream. 
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Doug Robertson: One of the few joys that can be had from listening to a new Coldplay song is trying to work out which band will be taking them to court this time after they unintentionally “homage” one of their songs by using an ever so familiar melody line. Here, however, it seems the main victim of Chris Martin’s magpie-like approach to song writing is Coldplay themselves, who are now so short of ideas, they appear to be dipping into their own back catalogue in their ever desperate search for inspiration. They approach the delicate art of creativity with the same sort of imagination as an office drone, spending yet another day photocopying forms for people he neither knows nor cares about. You’ve made enough money now, you don’t have to do something you clearly don’t enjoy any more. Please stop, for all our sakes.
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Alfred Soto: This time they’re serious: church organ! strings! I can smell the fuel from the cigarette lighters as they flicker in soccer fields around the world (which explains the soccer chant too). I sympathize with their attempt to ferret intimacy out of histrionics, but it’s only worked on the Pet Shop Boys’ cover of “Viva La Vida.” As for this, I want no part of a paradise that sounds like St. Peter blowing a trumpet in your ear.   
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Edward Okulicz: I know I underrated their previous single a lot and now rather love it, so I’m pretty cautious about giving this a low score but… no, “Paradise” is pretty dull. Plodding, too. Bloodless, aimless, pointless, with Chris Martin’s soulful “ooh” vocalisations serving nothing in particular other than being the most listenable of Coldplay’s array of tics at hand on the occasion. There was a time in the 90s when pop/rock bands started putting those awkward slabs of stringed instruments over gruel in an attempt to raise it towards anthem status, and this seems unaware that the last 15 years actually happened; there are other tricks, guys! The other thing is that this sounds way too similar to “Fun,” one of the songs Martin wrote for Natalie Imbruglia’s last album, but not as good. 
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Katherine St Asaph: Focus groups are bullshit but can sometimes work, especially for a group like Coldplay that so obviously writes songs to fill stadiums and the mass audiences contained within. Chris Martin could learn many valuable things, like how 80% of the participants text their buddies and apply mascara when all that’s going on is his parro-parro-parroting the title, or how the whole crowd sits up, closes their eyes and starts to sway when the chorus’s lilt and sweep takes over and Martin’s voice may well be something reedy in the string section. 
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Brad Shoup: In a bid to remain your favorite producer’s favorite band, Coldplay heads straight for a roiling Toompish undercurrent, then goes full Rihanna on the “para-para-paradise” bit —  there’s even a reference to the previous single so we know their money’s being minded. Restraint is limited to the surprisingly rinky piano, which bides time before the pre-arena’d chorus and an afterthought of a guitar solo. Empathy on an IMAX scale is what these boys like best, and this is just another expansive take.
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Jonathan Bogart: So is quoting the main metaphor of “Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall” lazy songwriting or creating a dense web of interconnected referentiality? Oh, God, it’s going to be a concept album, isn’t it.
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Al Shipley: “Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall,” as trolling as its title was, actually delivered a lot of what Coldplay does best with just enough of a curveball. By comparison, this is straight down the middle, dull even by their standards.
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Jonathan Bradley: I thought the cod-rave vibrance of “Every Tear Drop is a Waterfall” was a sly — and not unfunny — joke, but “Paradise” is unfortunately very po-faced. Chris Martin seems convinced his Kanye and Jay-Z cameos have given him the chops to pull off something in the same arena as R&B. Let’s have no more griping about Bruno Mars: “Paradise” is proof of how hellish this style can get.
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Iain Mew: At a time when indie rock as a whole has pretty much given up on the singles chart I’m enjoying Coldplay’s attempts to be on pop trend – a general electronic sheen, referencing back to their last single within this one, wordless massed singing, stuttering the title until it turns into an arcade dance machine. Finding out that Mylo Xyloto will have a Rihanna guest appearance comes as no great surprise afterwards. All that still doesn’t get them far away from sounding like Coldplay, but adds a playfulness to “Paradise”‘s glossy escapism which suits it well.
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