Colour Blind is almost exactly what you would expect from a pop punk band. Seaway aren’t reinventing genres or doing anything experimental, out to stick in your head because they made avant-garde songs you’ve never heard the likes of in your life. Rather, they’re sticking with what they know how to do, which is making quality music in a familiar style; this is inevitably what makes Colour Blind so endearing and appealing as an album.
It’s true that the songs all follow a similar style, with a wall of guitars in front of every chorus and a consistent level of energy throughout the album. Arrangements differ enough between songs to keep them interesting, but it remains hard to pick out true standout tracks on the album; the production’s just so tight that nothing really rises above or falls below what came before it.
The main exception to this rule is the album’s introductory stage. Slam in itself is a veritable bait and switch, starting almost as if it were an alt rock ballad before the wall of guitars comes crashing in and turns it into a tried and true pop punk track, short and sweet while perfectly setting up the following track. It’s not a perfect flow into Best Mistake, as if they were two halves of the same track, but the rising of the guitars at the end of Slam lead into the album’s first three minute track perfectly; it just so happens to be the album’s strongest track as well, the only one to truly rise above without relying on being the album’s first track. Closing track Goon ends the album on a fitting note though, mixing some gentler moments akin to Slam to make a perfect bookend for the album.
Colour Blind is a by the numbers pop punk album, but one that’s done well enough that it doesn’t come across as a bad thing. The album’s tracks are all at a perfect length, not long enough to overstay their welcome but not short enough to feel insubstantial, and it’s quite obvious that they know exactly what they’re doing and how they want to do it. The perfect sophomore album for a promising band.