Colleen Dow – Bumbum | Single Review
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Blanketed in soft layers of reverb, the guitar intro of “Bumbum” is an invitation to a dream. A much-needed lullaby for the time when it’s a little bit too past your bedtime. Here, in the third single under their own name, Colleen Dow muses on a midnight daydream of falling asleep in a warm white room, listening to city sirens while wrapped in sheets and someone else’s embrace. It’s a fantasy I could only describe as “everything I could ever ask for.”
But it’s not meant to last. Even before the first verse comes to a close, Dow starts having doubts about the staying power of this situation. The guitar is joined by bass, drums, and a plunky piano that simultaneously maintain the bedtime tempo while creating a march. It’s giving pacing around your kitchen at one a.m. waiting for the water for your sleepytime tea to boil.
The song is a move away from the syrupy indie-punk of Dow’s main band Thank You, I’m Sorry towards a more intimate and inward sound inflicted by bands like Postal Service and Now, Now. Together with producer Abe Anderson, they’ve crafted a sonic treat that allows Dow’s personality as a songwriter to shine through these influences.
The second half of “Bumbum” is where the lyrics begin to hit a little *too* close to home for me. If the first verse is a cozy dream, the second verse is a rude wake-up call from Dow’s internal critic. Their fantasy turns to a vision of abandonment, loss, and fear of waking to find your partner’s bags packed so they can flee. Worse even, Dow begins to wonder if these anxieties are mutual.
Look, I’m no stranger to imagining worst-case scenarios and projecting them onto my partner's. I just wasn’t expecting to feel called out about it today. It is nice to know that the person I usually trust with playlist recommendations on Tik Tok has the same insecurities as me.
Historically, the kind of music I would compare to an anxiety attack involves a lot of screaming and thrashing guitars—the sort of thing you can see coming from miles away. But I’m actually pretty good at keeping anxiety attacks to myself. Sure, I’ll talk the ear off of anyone who will listen, but I mean this more in a physical sense. I wring my hands, I clench my jaw, and I carry it all in my chest. The choruses of “Bumbum” are an incredibly accurate representation of the feelings inside of my body. The tension of my chest lives in this bassline. Bum bum goes my beating heart. Even the layer of acoustic guitar is in rhythm with the wringing of my hands.
“Bumbum” feels like a reflection of both my physical and mental state at my most anxious. It’s as if Dow took my own desires, fears, and insecurities and wove them into a pop song. That may not be an experience most listeners would willingly flock to but, in addition to being catchy as heck, it really is incredibly comforting to have these feelings echoed back at me. In this way, “Bumbum” feels like an anxiety attack and a security blanket at the same time. It’s the sheets in a warm white room I look forward to wrapping myself in for the rest of the winter.
Cailen Alcorn Pygott is a writer, musician, and general sadsack from Halifax, Nova Scotia. He’ll tell you even more about his anxieties on his band No, It’s Fine.’s album I Promise. Tell him how brave you think that is on Twitter @noitsfinereally and on Instagram @_no_its_fine_.
