iNDIGO’s video for Love was, appropriately, released a week before Valentine’s Day. Despite the name though, iNDIGO isn’t concerned with affection.
The single is fresh off his January 2016 album, Fear and Loathing in Portland, and speaks more metaphorically than literally. A smooth jazz/hip hop fusion plays in the background, while spoken words discussing marijuana waft over the top. Even on repeated listens, the juxtaposition doesn’t make sense: it’s noise, with a rhythm and beat but no discernible purpose.
Visually, the first two minutes and 47 seconds of the video takes the form of one continuous shot of the artist wandering along a path. It begins with obvious “street closed” signs that he consciously ignores, inviting the viewers to wonder where this experimental project is heading. iNDIGO is anxious, wearing headphones over his hat, lost in his own thoughts about something inscrutable. The jump-cut to a close-up of his face in the snow shows the pained expression endemic to 20-something hipsters trying to convey their inner torment without words.
Most interesting are the brief cuts of ghosts overlaid on the video: iNDIGO has tried, clearly, but the overall effect is unclear. At least the brassy hooks are haunting.
Written by Veronica Wells