Posted by “Blue” isn’t just a title—it’s the temperature Chalumeau runs at. Introspective, tender, and steeped in emotional honesty, it’s one of the final singles before Chalumeau’s debut album arrives this August, but it plays like a beginning, the emotional blueprint behind the entire project.
Katherine Bergeron, who wrote both the lyrics and music, doesn’t just chronicle loss — she dwells in it. “Blue” was born in the shadow of her mother’s death, and you feel that intimacy in every breath of the track. With Butch Rovan co-producing, mixing, and co-arranging, the song leans into restraint. There’s no cinematic crescendo or overwrought sentiment. Instead, we get quiet devastation — an arpeggiated piano, a cello that doesn’t weep but lingers, and long phrases that echo like the thoughts we try not to think.
The line — “Blue was my mother’s favorite color/I never thought it would be mine” — may be the most quietly heartbreaking couplet in Chalumeau’s catalog so far. It’s stark, disarming, and final, the kind of lyric that sneaks into your ribs and stays there. That this became the album’s title track makes sense. Everything seems to ripple out from that moment — every song, every genre choice, every decision to do things their own way.
“Blue” is a departure from the heavier edges of Chalumeau’s earlier singles like “Hide” and “No Common Ground.” Here, there’s no agenda but vulnerability. And that vulnerability becomes a form of strength — especially in the video, where a woman surrenders to the flood of remembrance. A photo of Bergeron’s late mother appears briefly, almost like a benediction. Ulrich Maiss, the cellist whose tone pulls the song inward, also appears, bridging the musical and emotional threads.
What’s most striking about “Blue” is how unguarded it is. Chalumeau chooses slowness, clarity, and space. It’s a brave song. And it makes you wonder what kind of debut album ends with this much restraint.