God, Princes Street is a shithole these days. Well, not the whole street. Mostly the array of Scottish tat shops, boarded-up buildings and odds and sods that pass for a capital city’s main drag. I mean, nae offence if you love a bit of tartan and aw that (or if you’re selling it – I doff my Jimmy hat to your ahem… entrepreneurial zeal). But despite the riot of clan patterns, it feels… grey.

By grey, I mean mood, not hue btw. You probably guessed that. And while it may be a depressing take on Embra’s once precious ‘jewel’ (“boo hiss, why are you talking down our city?” and so on) it is at least me showing my true colours. Something to be said for that in these monochrome days. Which is not to endorse splashing ‘colourful’ views around for the sake of it; let’s leave that to shit-flinger Musk and his ilk. Best ignored.

No, for a more full-spectrum appreciation of colourful thinking – and I mean that in the scientific sense, not as a slight on anyone who is neurodivergent (before the Ed is up before the beak or whatever) – let’s jump in the time machine and hurtle back through the inky blackness of space to 1966. Nope, not that 1966 – it’s been mentioned enough. I’m talking, America 1966. Chicago to be exact. For it was there that magic happened…

I say ‘magic’, but that seems trite. It doesn’t begin to cover the genius that was Ken Nordine’s iconic word jazz recording ‘Colors’ (we’ll use the American spelling as it was dubbed as such). And goodness what an album. It wasn’t his first rodeo; he was already a well-established practitioner – nay ‘pioneer’ - of what he called ‘word jazz’. Yes, the stuff you associate with smoky clubs, goateed people in berets, clicking fingers a lot.

Before you go all ‘Fast Show’ on me, this was way more than parody jazz catchphrases. No no no… Ken really meant business. Quite literally actually, because the album’s origins lay in a commercial radio advert contract he had with the Fuller Paint Company: to both pen and voice some short, spoken-word odes to different paint colours. Initially just 10 in total. But their popularity proved such that the spectrum expanded into 34.

And we are so lucky it did. Because oh, that voice, that wonderful rich baritone of his. Nordine could make a shopping list sound like poetry. By turns smooth, funky, wry, curious and – most of all – a timbre like deep mahogany or bittersweet toffee. His timing and delivery deserve star billing too. The pregnant pause, the elongated stop, the whispered refrain, the switch from fluid flow to syncopated syntax… Colors has it all.

Most compelling of all is the sheer invention of Colors. Through his words, Nordine allows each colour to find form, character, personality, a back-story – even diving into sub-sets of colours within colours (‘Brown’ and ‘Green’ are particularly worth a listen on the album in that respect). There’s even room for social commentary with his take on ‘Flesh’ as a colour, with all the complexities, challenges and contradictions it contains.

It’s never a lecture though; just a 53 minute 47 second joyride. Take for example, the sheer silliness of ‘Maroon’ in which Nordine lists words that rhyme with the colour in question, against a jazz flute ditty, including the immortal line: “Please say prune”. What’s not to like about urged to pipe up for dried plums? Exactly, I rest my case. Even a Hibee couldn’t fail to love this ‘Maroon’. Besides, he has ‘Chartreuse’ on there too.

Safe to say, this iridescent gem brightens any day. Or most days I would suggest. Even just as a novelty listen. There’s a playfulness about it that chases the blues away – although blue is on there too. As is grey. And black. But they all dance their own dance and become part of the whole, earning their place. He even produced ‘playing’ tips for the first 24 colour tracks, that went along with the original album’s sleeve notes.

‘Yellow works well for paranoia’ according to Ken. ‘Beige demands caution’. And watch out for Turquoise because, it ‘takes over’. But my favourite of those notes must be that for Puce: ‘Puce fills depressions’ says oor Ken. Speaking as someone who, like many out there, has experienced the dreaded black dog in the past, that seems like some useful advice to combat the often driech days we endure in Scotland this time of the year.

But whether Puce leave you in the pink or not, no matter… Colors is a tonic. Full stop. And that’s a rarity these days. I believe you can get it on CD online. Or even just find individual tracks on YouTube. They may even lead you to explore his works further – many other audio readings by Ken are available, as he was prolific throughout his life. And that life lasted a full 98 years. So don’t be yellow. Embrace the moment, with Ken. ■