Color Theory - Underneath These Dying Stars
Review by Karl Magi
Overall Album Impressions
Color Theory’s Underneath These Dying Stars travels down complex emotional pathways as it explores what it means to live as a human being. Brian Hazard’s distinctive voice carries his well-crafted lyrics set against a textural synth background. There’s melodic beauty here along with expression and intensity, making the album deeply engaging.
At the centre of Underneath These Dying Stars is Brian Hazard’s vocal performance. His voice has a sensitivity and range that allows him to capture and transfer the emotional power of the lyrics he writes. I am drawn to the way in which he can drive home the mingled pain and joy of existence through his vocals. There is also a classic New Wave feeling in his singing that is ear pleasing and suitably melancholy.
Another strong aspect to Underneath These Dying Stars is Brian Hazard’s songwriting skills. He crafts words with precision and feeling, spinning out stories of love, loss, darkness and joy. There is depth and weight to his imagery and his word choices result in engaging songs that drive deep into the heart of me. I am enamoured of the way in which he’s able to draw out my own emotions through his words.
The musical backing on this album is another reason for my great enjoyment of it. The way in which all of the synths are interlinked and layered creates texture, tonal colour, and expressive feeling. I also have a great deal of appreciation for Brian Hazard’s ability to write melodies that can evoke the often mixed emotional landscapes that we each traverse. There's beauty, pain and love roiling through the music here.
My Favourite Songs Analyzed
“Crystal” comes to life as quickly dancing, ascending synth with an inherent warmth moves in. Smoothly popping drums shape the song and rich bass adds weight. Brian Hazard’s touching voice carries a tenuously gentle melody as sharp-edged synth swirls and fatter, more gritty synth contrasts it.
Brian Hazard adds a deeper vocal as contrast as rippling harp-like notes flit past in fragile motion and again ascending synth notes climb in energetic motion. Brian Hazard’s voice slides out, embodying pained emotion as arpeggios spin while a harp flickers ethereally and bass pulsates.
I enjoy the gentle ache in the vocals as smoothly tripping synth is joined by a pulsing kick drum. Gruff, rounded synth contrasts with glassy notes and the skipping digital notes cascade as Brian Hazard lets his tender voice slip in easy motion while the low end rebounds.
The storyteller lets us know that what he holds to be precious in himself won’t allow itself to be revealed because “to come out of hiding is to end up alone.” He refuses to break down in front of the song’s subject because he’d look foolish.
Our narrator doesn’t want to let the other person in or cross a line because “I’ve been burnt too many times.” He wants to believe in something and feel alive as he asks the other person to “look into my crystal eyes where a shout of joy is waiting to be born.”
Now the storyteller has been cut wide open by the song’s subject with emotion like a “dazzling crystal blade.” The blade is so thin it creates no sensation and so rapid that it can’t be evaded. The other person sliced “right to the heart of it” with only a small amount of pain.
Massive bass and open-voiced synths echo out in a twangy line that embodies a balmy sensation to start “Trick Of The Light” as the drums create an easily gliding, but solid pulse underneath. Brian Hazard’s wonderfully evocative and melancholy voice carries the shadowed lyrics in a melody that exudes a dolorous feeling of loss.
The chorus has a wistful warmth to it as hollow synths carry painful feelings that cut to my heart while the drums shape the music. The vocals add more intense emotion to an already eloquent song. A piano dances in, carrying a melody that hurts but keeps on moving.
Brian Hazard’s voice has depth in it as it carries the emotive lyrics over the steady drumbeat and rich bass. The chorus provides contrasting gentleness and glow as the song throbs on and the vocals soar. The piano’s dynamic, tragic melody carries out as a quick arpeggio ripples and dark bass fades.
Our narrator talks about forgetting that person for "months and moments” to the point that he wants to scream that he doesn’t love that person any more. On late night drives, however, he still “scan(s) the side streets for signs of you.” In the chorus, our storyteller says that he can’t “leave it alone to think that you were right.”
He still feels like the other person is there “in the corner of my eye.” It’s like something on the tip of one’s tongue or a “trick of the light.” The narrator adds that “this expectation Is my creation” and realizes that it’s unhealthy to dwell on the hallucination of “the sharp sensation of hungering for something different.”
“The Darkness” opens with ethereally tumbling synth creates a delicately drifting pattern, touched with comforting emotion. Brian Hazard’s touching voice carries a fragile melody with his usual sensitivity. Flickering synths tingle against a medium-high synth’s rounded resonance.
Gruff bass pulses in broken lines as Brian Hazard’s tremulous, caressing voice carries the lyrics. The vocal melody brings in some light and air as trembling emotion flows.
Rough-edged, towering bass contrasts with the vocal tenderness. Steadily tumbling, full-sounding synths are touched by hollow tapping.
Tranquil feelings glide from the vocal melody while resonating, smooth synth washes through. The beat gains energy and a grainy, ticking sound moves in while distant piano chords drift and trickling, metallic sounds pop. Hard-edged bass growls and silence falls as the song ends.
In the first line of the song, the night tells the story. It talks about how all one’s “grievances and pain” are engulfed within “the black of my domain.” Now the night tells us we “belong outside, walking bleary-eyed” through vacant streets where “the monsters meet in the darkness.”
It stands with us “alone in a world of vacant cars” and calls for nothing to change “underneath these dying stars.” The night says that “in the status quo of the streetlamp’s glow” it will make a feast out of you “as the shadows do in the darkness.”
The perspective shifts to the narrator who speaks of being “torn away, by the light of day” which is “stark and methodical.” He says that nothing looks the same at night when “landmarks of my daily life glimmer with magic.”
He addresses another character in the song, telling that person that when they get tired “there’s a mattress on the floor” and if they undress “I won’t pressure you for more.” He goes on to say that he will lay beside them “still but satisfied, counting phantom sheep as the lonely weep in the darkness.”
Circling synth with a full sound carries a melody that trembles with melancholy as brighter piano doubles it delicately to begin “The Rot.” The drumbeat has a sliding smoothness while a tenuous melody aches with longing.
Brian Hazard’s caressing voice carries a yearning melody while the drumbeat and bass guide the music. Chimes vibrate with a melody mingling hope with absence. Brian Hazard’s voice moves alone, carrying the heart-aching lyrics.
Shimmering notes slip through with consummate tenderness while the drums keep pressing on as medium-high synth flickers. The vocals contain the pang in the words while the shaping beat propels the music. Radiant chimes glide as the drums and bass add form to the music before the song ends.
The narrator wonders when “the circling of crows” started as a life-long love “began to decompose.” He yearned to touch the other person with rust-stained fingers while their connecting chain was “corroding into dust.”
When one tries to cling to “a moment or a thought” the storyteller reminds us that it has already ended and “we can’t deny the rot.” He had to escape the pain of rejection because “without exception, all things will decay.” Now he suffers in silence with the knowledge that “it won’t last.”
Our tale’s teller speaks of his memory eroding “the layers of the past.” He wonders if he still loves the song’s subject and decides he’s not sure. In a Buddhist way, he concludes that he’ll “cling to it lightly until it rots away.”
“The Serious One” commences with sharply sweeping synth before airy arpeggios arpeggios ripple and calming piano chords dance. Brian Hazard's distinctive, resonant voice carries an enfolding melody as mistily gliding synth curls and arpeggios add texture. Warming piano chords flit through.
Brian Hazard’s voice is gentle as lush bass oscillates. A snare drum along with a ticking hi hat shape the music while elevated synth with a string-like quality carries a tender melody.
The chorus climbs to tremulous heights, carried by Brian Hazard’s leaping voice. Piano chords mingle melancholy and soft emotion as the digital-sounding arpeggios ripple. Nasal-sounding, medium-high synth carries an aching, touching melody before silence falls.
“Why do you giggle when we talk?” is our narrator’s question for the song’s subject. He wonders why they won’t look him in the eye as “you're not the shy type.” When he calls the other person on their cell, the narrator says that they “turn the screen to show your friends.”
He goes on to say that the song’s subject can have their fun because he’s like the “straight man” or the serious one in a comedic duo. He adds that he feels alive with the other person so “you must feel it too.” Many assumptions are implicit in the narrative which render this account questionable.
Our storyteller goes on to talk about his nervous, awkward confusion which proves his attraction. He leans in to kiss the other person who turns their head in “another misunderstanding” but he pints out that it is “all in good fun” and he can deal with it.
He continues by saying that he knows “where to be to accidentally meet” in public “but discreet.” He adds that it’s “enough to tell you I love you.” One wonders why he feels that way.
The narrator tells the other person “don’t you laugh” as it isn’t a joke on their behalf. They have him under control. He says he’s “on the case” as the serious one. He goes on to say that he has “laid it on the line” so if he is theirs, they must be his.
He points out that “we can’t have you looking so glum” as he adds that “I’m the straight man, the serious one.” To me, it seems as if he is trivializing the other person.
Soothing sounds float out in waves as delicate percussion taps to open “Cakewalk.” Brian Hazard’s lilting vocal is gentle and enfolding as the synth ripples run out and warm piano dances in flitting motion. Brian Hazard’s voice slips in and digital sounding synth forms an addictive, angular groove along with dense bass as trickling notes move through.
The broken vocals jump out before the smoothly sliding synth moves into a calming piano segment as the funky bass pulse is cut by string-like accents that tumble down into silence.
The teller of this tale speaks about the challenge for the song’s subject of winning him over “by degrees.” He talks about the other person singing upbeat songs in minor keys which makes him feel “blissfully sad.” He asks the other person to give him all of those feelings.
Our narrator says that he can’t get enough of “love in hard times.” He wants to experience plain truths expressed with conviction. He reminds himself to take shortcuts and keep moving since “it’s a cakewalk.”
The storyteller points out that “when life is a one-sided contest, every day brings another conquest.” He repeats the old advice of dreading the worst outcome and being hopeful for the best, adding the proviso that "no future is truthfully bad.”
“The Darkroom” comes to life as a kick drum pulses and a growing arpeggio revolves in rapid motion as dense bass comes in along with an uneven beat. A widely echoing arpeggio is cut by medium-high, twanging synth carrying a melody hinting at melancholy out above the intertwining low end.
Brian Hazard has depth and lush feeling in his voice as the spinning arpeggios interlock as hi that adds a metallic feeling as string-like notes slip past. Emotional power pours out convincingly in Brian Hazard’s deep vocals above the pulsing drumbeat while an arpeggio floats out in broadly dancing motion.
A camera shutter sound moves past as entangling strings sneak in and the vocals spread out. The percussion kicks in again underneath a bright synth glissade and Brian Hazard captures the feeling within the lyrics. The gleaming main melody returns with its beautiful mixture of need and mournful emotion before the song drifts to an end.
The storyteller mentions the air full of “a certain tension” and despair. He says that with a flash of light he can “embrace the beauty of this night” with delight. He adds that he and the song’s subject could be more than friends “seen through a different lens.” There are “strange developments” that unfold too rapidly in the darkroom now.
Now our narrator exhorts the other person to “dance in your Sunday best” and lift the weight from their chest. He asks the other person to express themselves and “entrap me with a pose.” He speaks of a poem that flirts in their prose “exposed under a waning moon.” The narrator says that “the scent of madness fills the room” along with perfume. As the song ends, he adds “We will remember this. Secure the moment with a kiss.
Conclusion
Underneath These Dying Stars transcends quotidian synthpop in its ability to engage the listener on a deeply emotive level. It digs right into the messy, wonderful and sometimes tragic nature of existence as it unfolds. Brian Hazard creates music that has lyricism, expression and deep feeling bound up in an ear-pleasing sonic painting.
