Now Things Ain’t Coloured Rose: Team Love Trades Optimism for Opaque Realism
By Christian Lamitschka for Country Music News International Magazine
Artist Overview: Team Love—The Architects of Melancholic Indie
Team Love is an indie/alternative rock collective known for their blend of driving, atmospheric instrumentation and intensely introspective lyricism. They have evolved into a band that has found a perfect balance between country, folk, and alternative rock, in both their traditional and contemporary forms.
Now Things Ain’t Coloured Rose marks a significant thematic departure. The title itself—a concise statement of disillusionment—suggests a pivot from youthful optimism toward a necessary, yet sometimes uncomfortable, realism. The album was recorded and mixed by Jake Holmes in suburban Melbourne and Coomoora (outside of Daylesford), with the production managing to imbue a psychogeographical sense of the dusty trails of Victoria. Sonically, the album is dense and diverse, echoing the current Americana leading light Waxahatchee and possessing the “loose, emotive, and poetic sweet-spot” often occupied by bands like Big Thief. This heart-laid-bare collection of songs places universal themes at the heart of their compelling musicality.
Deep Dive: Track-by-Track Review
Now Things Ain’t Coloured Rose spans 11 tracks, offering a cohesive 40-minute narrative journey through self-doubt, disappointment, and eventual, if guarded, acceptance.
| # | Song Title | Theme & Review |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Tomorrow Is A New Day | The album opens with a spacious, poetic, and emotive sound firmly in that Big Thief sweet spot. The loose, cyclical guitar riff and the hesitant delivery establish a mood where the promise of a “new day” is immediately tempered by past shadows, undercutting any sense of naive hope. |
| 2 | Everything Wrong | This track is a sublime piece of cosmic country, driven by a heavy bass line and distinguished by Jake Holmes’s melancholic pedal steel. It acts as the album’s first great moment of visceral self-criticism, where the instrumentation mirrors the internal monologue of listing flaws and failures. |
| 3 | Winter | A shift to a decidedly more pronounced country-rock sound, reminiscent of the atmospheric Americana of Waxahatchee. It uses the season as a metaphor for emotional stasis and coldness in a relationship, conveying a feeling of isolated waiting and inevitable difficulty. |
| 4 | Good Thing Get Me Down | This is a biting and cynical track that explores the irony of achieving milestones (the “good thing”) only for success itself to breed new, unexpected anxieties and a deeper sense of emptiness. The rhythm section is tight and driving, reflecting the frantic pace of trying to outrun hollow achievements. |
| 5 | Our Pain | The emotional core of the record, this is a gritty and soulful anthem about the shared burden within a long-term relationship. It shifts from internal turmoil to mutual support, suggesting that authentic connection is found in the acknowledgment and acceptance of “Our Pain.” |
| 6 | Dictionary | A heavier alt-country rock track that comments on the failure of communication. The narrator is seeking perfect clarity—a precise definition for a feeling—but the complex, almost academic arrangement highlights the inadequacy of language to truly express deep feelings. |
| 7 | Bones | Stripped down and primal, “Bones” returns to the fundamental. It features Shaun Stolk’s show-stopping lead vocal over a sparse arrangement, emphasizing what remains—the skeletal truth of self and the core structure of a damaged relationship—when everything else is removed. |
| 8 | Good At Company | This track provides a cynical, mid-tempo look at social performance. It’s about being “Good At Company”—the superficial skill of presenting a happy, stable face to the world—while feeling utterly disconnected internally. The song has a slight, uneasy bounce, masking the deep weariness in the lyrics. |
| 9 | Exceeded Expectations | A song of bitter, hollow triumph. Exceeding expectations is presented not as a victory, but as a burden or a cruel joke—a height reached that only reveals a steeper, more difficult climb ahead. The chorus bursts with a dark energy, emphasizing the cost of the achievement. |
| 10 | No Longer My Birthday | Darker than the title suggests, this song is a profound meditation on lonesomeness, connection, and rejection. As Ruby explains, it’s about “living life on the outside looking in,” capturing the deep, solitary feeling of the world being “a big old solitary place.” |
| 11 | Young | The concluding reflection. “Young” looks back at the innocence and certainty that the narrator has purposefully left behind. It is not mournful, but reflective, suggesting that the complexity and realism found on the album are a superior, more authentic replacement for the “coloured rose” view of the past. |
Final Verdict
Now Things Ain’t Coloured Rose is a confident, necessary album from a band refusing to settle for easy answers. Team Love masterfully uses atmospheric alt-country rock to explore the existential fatigue of the modern world. The album is a testament to the idea that true growth requires giving up the desire for simple, predictable happiness. It is a genuine gift of music from the footpaths and dusty trails of Victoria—vulnerable, fierce, and profound.