There is something nostalgic and uplifting about North Coast songwriter Benjamin Amos’s EP, Colours.
Upon first listen, Colours strikes me as a worthy companion for an upbeat coastal drive, a commercially viable slice of Millennial Optimism infused folk to soundtrack a crisp Autumn day. Produced by Stuart Reid (Duran Duran, Killer Kella) the EP is sonically reminiscent of 2010s chamber pop folk, bringing to mind Of Monsters and Men and Sleeping at Last. The production is made all the richer by the Arco String Quartet, who have previously backed NI folk giants such as David C Clements and The Darkling Air. It is the title track which boasts this feature most confidently, marking a triumphant beginning.
The sublime strings are the driving force, presenting us with a spectrum of emotion throughout. In their lingering moments of melancholy, it is apparent that Colours is not as sunny and bright as it would first appear. While it is often the modern folk writer’s inclination to luxuriate in unadulterated misery, Amos has followed a different path here, opting instead for an interesting tension between melody and theme.
The production’s forward momentum is juxtaposed by lyrics that tackle grief, displacement, and general ennui. Repetition (“I do not know the reason”, Amos sings over and over on Colours) is all the more effective in this upbeat format, where it feels like life is moving forward whether Amos likes it or not. The subtlety of this dissonance is what sets this record apart, as we can see from fine details such as the back and forth dance between major and minor chords in ‘Lost My Way’, to Amos’s unrestrained desperation as he remembers “the apple of my eye” on my personal favourite track, ‘Right Now’.
The final track, ‘Golden’, an ode to Amos’s father, ends abruptly. It might have been nice for Amos to wrap things up in a neat bow with an atmospheric ending and a chance for his words to sink in, but the fact that he doesn’t might just be the point. A solemn letter in a bold font, Colours finds a way to reconcile the inconsistencies of existence: closure might not always be found, things might not always make sense, but through all of it, there is still beauty, there is still light, there is still colour.
Right now, this is all we’ve got.
