Double LP
Appropriate that this latest Blueboy collection from A Colourful Storm should land the same month as the equally prosaically labelled Hydroplane comp, sharing as they do that same gentle sigh of time worn, lovelorn longing and dependency. Funny, then, also that it's taken a London shop to pick up on a once Melbourne band, and a Melbourne label to do the digging on a long since passed London (mostly, eventually) outfit. Perhaps we should all stick to our own backyard? And where, may i ask, is the joy in that? Such traversing of borders does speak to the universal nature of this kind of music, the kind of which Blueboy excels above most others, a light bending, crystal clear kind of heartbreak that even amongst the delicate confines of the Sarah catalogue feels especially fragile and pure of vision. Who, may i also ask, doesn't know sadness? SIngles 1991-1998 is exactly that, and with it an entirely necessary exercise given the very noble Sarah house rule of not including singles on albums and thus how expensive those 7"s have since become. Singles are also a very effective means of mapping a band's trajectory given their function as compact, clarion expressions, particularly when those songs are unavailable anywhere else, unanchored from the context of an album. With Blueboy, however, there's no great leap or moment of transgression. Consider this an exercise in refinement. As they greet you on perfect debut Clearer is much the same as you find them on final 7", Marco Polo (released via the Sarah offshoot, Shinkansen), albeit with a few flirtations with more rounded production and a swelling in number during the middle (check the relatively grandiose River, the drum machine pop of the tellingly titled Hit, or the Britpop baiting Dirty Mags). Having previously put in the hard yards as the relatively unknown Feverfew, Blueboy were a fully formed prospect the moment they stepped out the door, a kind of pristine distillation of the Sarah aesthetic that went on to be one of its greatest sons. On 1995's Toulouse, Keith Girdler openly sings "I don't want to change the world anymore", which you suspect he meant a great deal given it was a B side to the aforementioned Britpop pastiche Dirty Mags, the advent of that scene perhaps precipitating the feeling that his time had passed. And maybe Blueboy didn't change the world, but these songs do endure remarkably well, private universes well attuned to anyone seeking a little solace and understanding.
