Blue

Abrams' voice here takes on an almost conversational intimacy, delivering "Blue" like a message intended for one specific person. The song settles into the chromatic mood of its title — cooled-down, slightly removed, the particular shade of sadness that sits on the other side of the initial flood. The production is minimal but not stark, a guitar figure with slight reverb giving it a gentle atmospheric quality, like the song is coming from the next room. Lyrically it moves through the way a person becomes associated with a color, a sensation, a quality of light — how you can be walking down a street and suddenly someone is everywhere around you even though they're nowhere. It's a love song written in past tense, the most honest kind. For the listener who knows exactly what it means to have someone haunt the peripheral vision of everyday life long after they've gone.