Coldplay can’t fix this.

A Hallmark greeting card filled with puppets, aliens and cheesy slogans has become the world’s biggest stadium show.

He told us to “believe in love”. He reminded us that “life is worth living”. He instructed us to wave at someone on the other side of the stadium like we hadn’t seen that special person in 50 years. He made us waggle our fingers in the sky and send our love to Ukraine or Israel like we truly could have an impact on the world’s biggest wars. He smiled. He smiled so much, I wasn’t sure I trusted it was real.

At the second show of Coldplay’s three-night stand at Eden Park, front man Chris Martin was a Hallmark greeting card come to life. He was a church pastor leading his congregation in cloying singalongs. He was a conductor of light and harmonies, a children’s TV presenter playing out his fantasies on the world’s biggest stage.

So he dressed appropriately: a tight blue tee, parachute pants with neon spray paint down the side, and shoes so colourful “rainbow” doesn’t begin to describe them. It was an outfit befitting of the spectacle, a saccharine rush of sugar to the head, the musical equivalent of sitting under a McDonald’s caramel sauce machine sprinkling on toppings as the goo pours straight into your face.

Coldplay at Eden Park. Photo: Chris Schulz.

Why was I there? That’s a question I asked myself from the moment I entered the front gates. There, I had a biodegradable light-up wrist band affixed to my arm and a set of 3D glasses placed in my pocket. I got the only beer available, an $11.50 paper cup of warm Heineken, and passed the time watching instructional videos. They told me to dance on kinetic floor boards and ride rechargeable bikes to help power future Coldplay shows. I didn’t do it. I kind of hope they run out of juice.