Listening to Grey & Purple Songbook unravel their latest single, “Anthem of The Heart”, is a bit like discovering a sequined glove inside the pocket of a heavy woolen parka. While the project hails from Oslo, a place my mind reflexively paints in shades of slate and frost, this track sweats with the humid, neon-soaked energy of a crowded dance floor at 2 AM.
The bass line here doesn’t just walk; it struts with the specific confidence of a cat that knows it’s about to knock a vase off a shelf and absolutely does not care. That punchy, syncopated low-end interlocks with high-pitched, scratchy rhythms in a way that feels geometrical like a kaleidoscope shifting into place. It’s Nu-Disco with a brain. The vocals glide from a warm mid-range into a falsetto so crisp it could slice through wrapping paper, floating over staccato chords that remind me of the popping sensation of bubble wrap.
Strangely, it makes me think of the color chartreuse acidic, sharp, yet somehow deeply necessary.
But don’t let the polish fool you. Beneath the robust brass and the four-on-the-floor beat, there is a distinct agitation at play. The narrative isn’t content to simply count steps; it’s picking a fight with the status quo. The lyrics dissect the balance between wealth and justice, creating a friction between the euphoric soundscape and the heavy reality of privilege. It posits joy as a form of jubilant defiance. It evokes that specific feeling of laughing during a serious argument not out of disrespect, but because the absurdity of the situation demands a release of tension.
Does the groove make the pill of societal critique easier to swallow, or does it make the medicine work faster? “Anthem of The Heart” leaves you dancing, certainly, but you might find yourself wondering who paid for the floor you’re spinning on.
