Indigo, Electric, Baby

Blue is the word often used to describe ‘a mood no one chooses’, suggesting, for example, the indigo magic that is the music of Robert Johnson.

But the expressions of blue are many and varied: it is the colour of the sky-reflecting sea on a summer’s day, and of that same sea and sky in the night that follows, their shade deepened and darkened. It is part of the neon landscape of any city on a rainy night, and also, of course, the dominant colour of the planet on which we live.

In Indigo, Electric, Baby, her highly lyrical and evocative third collection, Enda Coyle-Greene explores a range of ‘blue times’, from the “sad heart- / light neon bled / in gutters” to the blue notes of a favourite record by which we might approach both the past and “the dead of the night”.