by Karl Magi
Color Theory's “In the Chamber” commences with a vibrant rhythm and fat, bubbling synth contrasting with the Color Theory's world weary voice and the words which cut like razors. Springy notes pop with effervescence and a warming chorus cascades gently.
The lyrics are transported by Color Theory's hurting tones to create an engaging contrast that takes hold of me. The poppy beat persists while lifting notes spread with worshipful emotion before the piano dances elegantly and the vocals reach out with their distinctive sound. With a slick slide, the synth fades and the song ends with the pained, but strangely hopeful vocals.
Feeling the weight of his heart, "locked and loaded in my chest," the main character talks about the safety being off and then on since the last time the song subject left. His metaphorical gun is "cocked and quiet" as there's a rush of blood into his head while he is "holding this hammer back" as a bullet spins in the chamber.
There's leaden heaviness and icy cold in his heart as our storyteller is "counting down, winding up, body braced for the spark." He reminds himself to take things slow and steady as there are "six rounds left," so he takes a breath, adding that "something has got to give, fracture." He says that what he carries in the chamber, he carries alone.
Aching to tell the song's subject "everything that you don't want to know," the narrator points out that the pressure is "combustible" and he's ready to explode. He says that in the chamber there is "lead inside my veins, somewhere underneath my rib cage, bursting from the strain." He adds that there's fine black dust in the chamber and asks, "Do I ever pull the trigger or just rust away?"
The main character keeps waiting for his chance, musing that perhaps it's for the best and "maybe this too shall pass." To conclude, he says that there are "gripping brass teeth and with one final snap, the world fades to black, silence."
