Album Review
There are albums that impress you with how much they can fit into a song, and then there are albums that make you notice what a song can live without. The Colour of Spring has a little of both. Talk Talk still understands the pleasure of a memorable chorus, but the music is becoming less interested in filling every available space. A piano figure, a bass line, the grain of Mark Hollis' voice: sometimes that is enough to pull you all the way in.
Calling this the record between It's My Life and Spirit of Eden is useful for placing it in the band's history, but it can also undersell what is here. This is much more than a stepping stone. The songs have their own balance of immediacy and uncertainty, with arrangements that feel substantial without becoming crowded. Hollis and producer Tim Friese-Greene make room for a sound that is warmer, less rigid and more responsive to the emotion of each performance.
“Happiness Is Easy” establishes that feeling beautifully. Its bass and percussion keep a measured pace while the voices enter with a sense of unease. The children's chorus does not simply brighten the song; it makes the distance between innocence and the adult voice more affecting. There is something unsettled beneath the inviting surface, and the band has the patience to let you discover it.
Then there is “Life's What You Make It.” That repeating piano figure is one of those musical ideas that seems obvious only after someone has thought of it. The drums give it physical weight, while the guitar cuts through with a sound that feels almost like another voice. Hollis never needs to oversell the chorus. The song's force comes from the way those few elements lock together, creating a momentum that feels both steady and urgent.
“Living in Another World” gives the album a more expansive release. The arrangement keeps gathering energy, and Hollis sounds as though he is reaching beyond what the words alone can express. “I Don't Believe in You” and “Give It Up” are just as valuable to the record's shape, reminding you how naturally this band can move through a pop song while leaving its emotional edges rough.
The quieter pieces are where the album begins to feel especially personal. “April 5th” hangs in the air, allowing the voice and the surrounding instruments to emerge slowly. “Chameleon Day” is even more spare, a brief interruption that asks you to adjust the way you listen. These passages do not feel like decorative interludes. They change the scale of the record, making its fuller songs seem richer when the sound opens up again.
“Time It's Time” earns its long goodbye. The repeated phrases, rhythmic movement and gathering voices give the ending a patient sense of arrival. It is a fitting close to an album that keeps finding depth inside what first appears familiar. The production carries traces of its decade, but the performances give those sounds a life that extends well beyond it.
At 4.7, The Colour of Spring comes remarkably close to everything I want from a record: songs worth remembering, performances worth returning to and enough mystery to keep those returns interesting. Its quieter stretches ask for attention, and its emotions do not always resolve neatly. That is part of why it lasts. Talk Talk makes accessibility feel like an invitation to listen more closely.
