She Was Coloured In

She Was Coloured In begins, as all good albums should, with the throaty voice of Jack Nicholson, waffling on about codes and conditioning as David Locke in the cult 1975 mistaken identity thriller The Passenger. Next, co-star Charles Mulvehill chimes in; “We are creatures of habit” he reasons, “is that what you mean?”
This is a perfect way to start She Was Coloured In for several reasons: first because the record has a distinct cinematic flow; secondly because it’s the kind of album that is likely to achieve cult status; and thirdly because Solar Bears are certainly creatures of habit.
Stirring drum hooks, shimmering electronic beats and eerie melodies are this Dublin/Wicklow duo’s bread and butter and their lavish 50-minute debut is a consistent mash of their cinematic influences. A strong, melodramatic heartbeat runs through all 15 tracks. But that’s not to say that Solar Bears are a bunch of one-trick caniforms (sorry, I’ll stop now...) ‘Twin Stars’, for example, is every bit as celestial as the name suggests while the spooky ‘Dolls’ could soundtrack a silent horror flick. ‘The Quiet Planet’ has all the pomp of a war chant, while ‘Children Of The Times’ is graced with a disco shuffle.
Granted, She Was Coloured In has the commercial appeal of a wax radiator – there’s never an appropriate time to mosh or punch the air – but there are still plenty of moments to cherish. If we’re talking ambient records, you’d be hard pushed to find something as lovely as the Asian twang on ‘Primary Colours At The Back Of My Mind’ or the elegant hum of ‘Solarization’ anywhere else.
Key Track: ‘Primary Colours At The Back Of My Mind’