Since the start of this decade, Coldplay have risen from next-big-thing mellow/melancoly Brit-rockers to the height of rock's pantheon, making the alternative digestable to the masses. While their first two albums, 2000's "Parachutes" and "A Rush of Blood to the Head" in 2002, were track-for-track some of the best albums since the start of the new millenium, something happend in the music of 2005's "X&Y."

Coldplay injected their winning combination of piano, hooks and heartache with arena-sized steroids, making their songs sound bigger but never sounding broader or more expansive. No risks were taken, but boy could that sound fill the space.

That changes with their new album "Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends" with the help of famed U2-producer Brian Eno, a ton of worldly instruments and enough reinvention to keep listeners mostly intrigued but never alienated.

To start, Coldplay don't even open the album with one of their own songs. The first and last tracks, "Life in Technicolor" and "The Escapist," contains a large sample of Jon Hopkins electronica composition "Light Through The Veins." But as "Life in Technicolor" progresses, another curve ball is thrown. Is that a Persian santur being played over slowly swelling acoustic guitar and cathedral-sized drums?

It's one of many worldly instruments and arrangements that accessorize Coldplay's sound. The percussion on "Lost," placed over an organ-infused bounce, could have been jacked from an Enigma album. "Yes" features the addition of a snake-charmer string arrangement interspersed over Chris Martin's vocal, swapping a falsetto for a lusty baritone that matches lust, and "Strawberry Swing" has Coldplay turning Japanese with a serene Asian-inspired guitar line.

But it's more than just a few musical toys that make the album an interesting listen. The group completely strays away from a singalong chorus of any kind on "42" which starts out sounding like "Trouble" until a sudden tempo shift lets guitarist Johnny Buckland redline a swerving riff. And on "Violet Hill," the band deliver a healthy dose of mid-tempo rock with a head-bobbing bass/drum rhythm that may inspire a Jay-Z remix.

While Coldplay are taking some sonic, they occasionally just end up sounding like early U2 on the first half of "Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love" or on several other tracks where Buckland's Edge-y ax is put in your face. And lyrically, the album doesn't make much emotional sparks. Part of it is a result of Chris Martin's voice getting lost in the sonic landscape. Sometimes it's for the better, like on the tail end of "Yes," where his voice has an ethereal Sigur Ros effect over My Bloody Valentine guitar wales. But even on multiple listens, the topics (death, war, religion) are covered lyrically in broad brush strokes and lack the personalization that hooked their fans in the first place. Blame Gwyneth and their silly marital bliss for that.

Even with all these changes, the band still keeps the formula honed for maximum populus appeal. Coldplay's sound is a brand, like Pepsi or Ford, and just because you give a Mustang a GPS system doesn't make you forget you're driving a Mustang. You'll hear the formula loud and clear on what may be the album's best track, "Death And All His Friends," with an exquisite piano intro that builds to stadium heights the same way that "Fix You" did, only better.

The song features one of the album's few insightful lines and shout-along choruses: "I don't want to be a cycle of recyled revenge, I don't want to follow death and all of his friends."

After early comparisons to Radiohead and latter comparisons to U2, the calculated sonic risks displayed on "Viva's" ten tracks may help Coldplay take the steps to be a band others will follow.