Colourmusic F, Monday, Orange, February, Venus, Lunatic, 1 or 13 by: Ed Butler Sun:09-Nov-08 Label: Great Society Year: 2008 WB rating 69 out of 100

Synesthesia is a neurological condition whereby the body’s senses become confused. They can see words, odours can be heard, and sounds can appear to the eyes as colours. It certainly appears that Ryan Hendrix and Nick Turner, Colourmusic’s creative forces, if not sharing this rare condition, can at the very least sympathize with synesthetes everywhere. As such, the name Colourmusic suggests a certain affinity with meshing sight and sound.

While F, Monday, Orange, February, Venus, Lunatic, 1 or 13 as an album title is impenetrable in a seriously wasted, Captain Beefheart kind of way, the music contained therein is certainly not as dense as its name suggests. It is, however, appropriately colourful. So perhaps merely making music colourful is their intention. Rarely is the album boring, but it can border on the confusing.

Opening on a lushly Beatles-esque children’s rhyme, ‘Motherfather’, Colourmusic quickly shift gears into the thuddingly rhythmic ‘Put in a Little Gas’. By the time Odelay-era Beck country bounce of ‘Moolah’ heralds the close of proceedings, Colourmusic have traversed a litany of eras and genres, from the Caribou-meets Animal Collective jangle of ‘Circles’ to the Dylan-does-girl-does-hip hop, ‘Rock n Roll Polar Bear’.

This musical restlessness is a hallmark of an album that contains a number of belting songs, yet doesn’t quit shaking the listener up at every conceivable opportunity. ‘The Gospel Song’, while unusually banal in its moniker, is a barnstorming slice of blues, channeling Primal Scream during their short-lived ‘good’ phase. Many songs on F, Monday, Orange, February, Venus, Lunatic, 1 or 13 are eerily reminiscent of another sound, as the easy description above attest to, but each are arranged in such a way that there is a distinctly Colourmusic flavour to each track.

Strangely, though, ‘The Gospel Song’, while the best on the album, is also the one that is the least unique. Upbeat rhythms, gospel choirs and unintelligible lyrics combine for a rambunctious three minute burst. Then, immediately following that is a piece of psychedelic Nick Drake-folk, called ‘Spring Song’.

In fact, the naming regime that Colourmusic employ is quaint in its inconsistency. With an album title like F, Monday, Orange, February, Venus, Lunatic, 1 or 13, one would imagine that song titles contained within would be equally idiosyncratic. However, four songs on the album are called ‘The Gospel Song’, ‘Spring Song’, ‘Fall Song’ and ‘Winter Song’. Appropriately, these four are among the least surprising songs on the album; brief inhalations before an unnecessary explosion of another arbitrary excursion into genre-hopping.

Hendrix's vocals are appealing in their earnest juvenility – he is perfectly willing to adopt a faux-childlike voice and mutter "diddle-diddle-dee" along with the chugging guitars on 'Spring Song', or adopt screaming falsetto on 'The Gospel Song'. This ingenuous nature is nicely adapted to the rambunctious music, particularly when propelling the odd nursery rhyme-repetition of 'Yes!', and the frosty joyousness 'Winter Song'. However, on tracks like 'You Can Call Me By Name', which most closely resembles early Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, such youthfulness grates with the fuzzy bass and half-time interludes.

It seems that, despite Colourmusic's best efforts, their music does not inspire the synesthete's visions of rainbows emerging from speakers. Of course, that would just be stupid anyway. What they do have is an enthusiastic collection of charming numbers, and the odd cracker. That enthusiasm has, though, robbed them of the kind of riveting listening experience that it feels they were aiming for. No visions, then, but plenty of possibility for the future. I await my first musically-induced epileptic fit in 2010.