EP Crayon Colours is abloom with chiming harmonies, rambunctious pop melodies and witty storytelling. None of these songs pass the three minute mark, and their triple-distilled dayglo appeal offers some much-needed sunshine pep in these times of gloominess.
‘The boyfriend song’ proffers a perky approach to a pretty crappy situation – a couple in love, but in relationships with other people. We couldn’t be further from moral judgements here – this track is all about the rip-roaring excitement and impossibility of a love beyond immediate grasp. The lyrics glitter over drums and harmonicas that’ll make you jig like an idiot in your seat on the train. Really.
The percussive verve of ‘Johnny Coop’ continues in a similarly fit-inducing vein. The premise (that if all the possibilities of London arrived on the doorstep of an apathetic fellah, it probably wouldn’t change anything) is as quirky and witty as anything you could invite into your ears.
Lastly, ‘The Photographer’, a song about an unfulfilled chap who “always tries too hard” benefits from an exuberant harmonica chorus and super-tight drums. This unfortunate gent, who we’d all more than likely hate if we met, lives a day in the life that none of us would envy:
“When you leave work, and you go home, you go to sleep. Oh how you weep. And in the morning you will do it all again”.
The Momeraths are just the creatures to snap us out of our postmodern apathy and get us dancing on public transport. And that would surely be a very good thing indeed.
Words: Helen True
You can buy Crayon Colours here