Coldplay's debut arrived fully formed yet curiously understated, Chris Martin's falsetto drifting over Jonny Buckland's shimmering arpeggios like mist across Welsh valleys. Yellow became the unlikely anthem that launched a thousand wedding playlists, but tracks like Spies and Shiver revealed a band capable of genuine melancholy beneath the stadium-sized ambition.

Ken Nelson's production kept things admirably sparse, allowing space for emotional resonance that British rock had largely abandoned to Britpop's swagger. The Grammy vindicated what radio already knew: accessibility needn't mean compromise.