Coloured Clocks creates a sprawling musical work on album, "Platypus"
With Platypus, James Wallace—better known under his moniker Coloured Clocks—has delivered one of the most immersive, emotionally intelligent, and sonically rich albums of the year. For over a decade, Wallace has been quietly shaping a universe of his own—one born in Melbourne, detoured through Cologne, and now vibrating through the streets of London. And yet, Platypus feels less like a culmination of that journey and more like a portal into the next frontier.
From the first swelling moments of the opener, “Montrose,” the tone is set—not just musically, but spiritually. Wallace constructs an atmosphere that grows and breathes, not in a linear way, but in circular spirals. It’s all here: the spaced-out vocals that feel like they’re echoing off canyon walls, the cosmic textures that teeter between isolation and enlightenment, and the kind of guitar work that doesn’t so much riff as it rips open new dimensions. The sound evokes the wilderness, but not the earthly kind—it’s a wilderness of thought, emotion, and dream logic. You don’t just hear this music; you inhabit it.
As Platypus expands into its 11-track arc, it blossoms into something even more ambitious than its already stunning intro suggests. Wallace continues to explore his signature blend of modern psychedelia—reminiscent of 2010s greats like Pond and early Tame Impala—but infuses it with a new level of clarity and purpose. It’s like he’s taken all the lessons from his prolific catalogue and distilled them into their most potent form. There’s an unmistakable sense of a vision being fully realized here, and it’s nothing short of euphoric.
What elevates Platypus from an excellent psychedelic album to a transcendent one is how seamlessly it moves between sonic modes. There are moments of unhinged, shredding guitar bliss that recall the best moments of psych’s greats, but they’re followed by ambient instrumental stretches that float like fog above a frozen lake. The dynamic range is incredible, and yet it never feels scattered or indulgent. Wallace has a composer’s ear and a producer’s finesse, ensuring that every moment feeds the emotional arc of the record.
And then there’s the voice—Wallace’s secret weapon, and the emotional anchor of Platypus. His vocals, often drenched in reverb and delay, always find a way to cut through the mix with heartbreaking clarity. Whether delivering existential meditations or barely-there harmonies, his voice carries a kind of quiet wisdom, a weightless sadness wrapped in serenity. It’s that contrast—between the intimate and the infinite—that makes the album feel like more than music. It feels like a mirror to the inner self.
Production-wise, Platypus is pristine. Every synth is sculpted, every drum hit placed with intention, every guitar tone chosen like a color in a painting. Wallace has always been a meticulous sonic architect, but this is next-level work. The album never feels over-produced; it just feels complete. Like a world you could live inside. Ultimately, he’s delivered on the coveted “album experience” that lets you mindlessly click play and enter into a vision that comes out on the other end, completed.
And that’s the thing: Platypus isn’t just an album—it’s a world. It’s one of those rare records that reveals more with every listen, a piece of art that reshapes your mood and perception each time you return to it. It invites you to get lost, and then gently guides you back to yourself. It’s both escape and arrival, a looping journey through emotion, place, and possibility.
There’s a beautiful irony in naming this sprawling, ambitious work Platypus—an animal that, like Coloured Clocks’ music, defies simple categorization. Psychedelic? Definitely. Pop? Occasionally. Instrumental? Sometimes. Vocal-forward? When needed. The truth is, Platypus is all of these things, and none of them. It’s just Coloured Clocks, fully realized, boldly dreaming, and remarkably at peace with its own eccentric genius.
James Wallace has long been an underground hero in the realm of cosmic pop and ambient psychedelia. With this album, he’s made his definitive statement—an album that doesn’t just solidify his place in the genre, but elevates it entirely. Replay it, reframe it, get lost in it. This isn’t just a step forward; it’s a leap into a new era.
Long live this project because as long as he keeps releasing, we’ll keep listening! Go ahead and embark on the journey for yourselves by clicking those links below and follow along for more in the works.
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