A: The Color

The answer itself is a variable.

The colors shift, modifying themselves for the senses and cognitive pathway of each listener; there is no finite answer to heroically unveil through the aural carnage that is as seductive and luring as it is conspiring to complicate the idea of form and process. Within each A: The Color song the grand scale lies far away from the band.  “I want to write songs that can be anything to anyone. If it’s cocaine, a girl, or whatever you can figure out what it is,” guitarist Zach Beachum says.

As any and all bands do, members shift in wake of the early years: some step away as they are too busy while others leave as the result of a religious intervention; what’s left is the core duo of Beachum and frontman Ethan Gabriel Jack: a tight wire act of strident voice and girding guitars. In synesthetic terms the salad days were ones of darkening orange and red; and shots of light green as the formula for A: The Color was in development.

Where the band first used the denseness of soundscapes to bridge the paradox of light and dark and the decadent and the holy that seemed in-battled on their freshman recordings Beachum, Jack , and their cast of players have cut the chord for a sleeker sound that never wavers, embracing its more bright illuminated colors. What’s to come is electric, backlit, and ever-evolving.