If you walked into a record store in Sydney or Melbourne in late 1987, you couldn't escape it. That blue-tinted cover. Iva Davies looking like a synth-pop aristocrat. Man of Colours wasn't just another album; it was the moment Icehouse stopped being a cult "pub rock goes electronic" experiment and became a global juggernaut. It’s weird to think about now, but for a while there, Davies was arguably as big as Michael Hutchence. Maybe even bigger in certain rooms.
The album is a fascinating time capsule. Honestly, it’s one of the few records from that era that managed to use the Fairlight CMI—that ridiculously expensive Australian-made digital workstation—without sounding like a dated mess of robot farts. It’s lush. It’s expensive-sounding. It’s peak 80s, but it has this weirdly timeless core.
The High Stakes of Man of Colours
Before this record, Icehouse was already doing okay. Primitive Man had given them "Great Southern Land," which is basically Australia's unofficial national anthem at this point. But Iva Davies wanted more. He wasn't satisfied with being a local hero. He wanted to crack the States. To do that, he teamed up with producer David Lord, who had worked with Peter Gabriel. You can hear that influence everywhere. The precision. The atmospheric layers. The obsession with "the right" sound.
They spent a fortune.
The recording happened at Air Studios in London and Westside Studios. It wasn't a quick "bash it out in a week" session. Davies is a classically trained musician—an oboe player, for God's sake—and he brought that rigid, perfectionist discipline to the pop world. He didn't just want catchy tunes; he wanted a sonic architecture.
What’s wild is that Man of Colours became the first album by an Australian artist to spawn five top 30 singles in Australia. Five. Think about that for a second. In an era when the competition was INXS, Midnight Oil, and Crowded House, Icehouse was cleaning up. It stayed at number one on the Australian charts for eleven weeks.
Why "Electric Blue" Almost Didn't Happen
You know the song. It’s got that soaring chorus and the kind of saxophone hook that only exists in the late 80s. But "Electric Blue" has a strange backstory. It was co-written with John Hall, better known as Daryl Hall from Hall & Oates.
Davies originally wrote the melody with Hall in New York. There’s a version of the story where it was almost a Hall & Oates track. Can you imagine? Luckily for Icehouse, Davies kept it. It became their biggest hit in the US, peaking at number seven on the Billboard Hot 100. It’s the quintessential "blue-eyed soul meets digital synthesis" track. It’s catchy, sure, but it’s also incredibly lonely. That’s the secret to Icehouse. Even the upbeat songs feel like they were written by someone watching a party through a window from across the street.
Breaking Down the Title Track
The song "Man of Colours" itself is a different beast entirely. It’s slower. More evocative. Davies has mentioned in various interviews over the decades that the song was inspired by his own grandfather, who was a painter.
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The lyrics talk about an artist who can't find the right shade to express what’s inside. It’s meta. It’s about the creative process. Musically, it relies on these beautiful, shimmering keyboard pads and Davies’ distinctive, slightly cold but emotive vocal delivery. It’s the "centerpiece" in every sense of the word.
When you listen to it today, it doesn't feel like a cynical radio grab. It feels like a genuine piece of art. Most bands in 1987 were trying to sound like U2 or Bon Jovi. Icehouse was trying to sound like a digital painting.
The Gear That Defined the Sound
You can't talk about Man of Colours without talking about the Fairlight CMI. For the uninitiated, the Fairlight was an Australian invention that basically birthed modern sampling. It cost about as much as a small house in the 80s.
Iva Davies was an early adopter.
- He didn't just use it for drums.
- He used it to create textures.
- The Fairlight allowed him to "paint" with sound, looping fragments of real instruments into something otherworldly.
- It gave the album a "hi-fi" sheen that was light-years ahead of the grainy, distorted guitar rock dominating the airwaves.
But here’s the thing: technology usually dates. Usually, you listen to a 1987 synth-pop record and you cringe at the snare sound. Somehow, Man of Colours escapes the worst of it. Maybe it’s the classical arrangements. Maybe it’s just the sheer quality of the songwriting. "Crazy" still hits. "My Obsession" still feels urgent.
The Global Impact and the US Market
Chasing America is usually where Australian bands go to die. Or at least where they lose their soul. Icehouse managed to pivot without becoming unrecognizable. They toured with the likes of David Bowie and The Cars.
In the US, "Electric Blue" and "Crazy" were the big drivers. "Crazy" is a masterclass in tension and release. It starts with that driving, insistent beat and builds into a chorus that feels like a release of all that pressure. It’s a song about losing your mind, but it sounds so controlled. That juxtaposition is exactly why it worked.
The album eventually went Platinum in the United States. In Australia, it went 10x Platinum. To put that in perspective, that’s over 700,000 copies in a country that had a much smaller population back then. Basically, every third house had a copy of this record.
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The Visuals: More Than Just a Mullet
We have to talk about the hair. Iva Davies had a legendary mullet. It was a work of structural engineering. But beyond the fashion of the time, the visual identity of the Man of Colours era was very deliberate.
The music videos were high-budget. They were cinematic. "Electric Blue" features Davies walking through various landscapes, looking moody and detached. It was perfect for MTV. They weren't just a band; they were a brand. A very sophisticated, slightly aloof brand that felt more European than Australian.
This was a departure from the "Aussie Rock" image of guys in sweaty singlets playing in loud pubs. Icehouse offered an alternative: elegance.
Critical Reception vs. Longevity
Critics at the time were sometimes split. Some felt it was too polished. Too "commercial." They missed the raw, jagged edges of the first Flowers album (the band's original name).
But time is the ultimate judge.
If you look at the tracklist now, there’s almost no filler.
- "Crazy" – A perfect pop-rock opener.
- "Electric Blue" – The massive hit.
- "Nothing Too Serious" – A bit more edge, great guitar work by Bob Kretschmer.
- "Man of Colours" – The artistic soul.
- "Heartbreak Kid" – A solid, emotive mid-tempo track.
The B-side of the record (if you’re a vinyl person) held up too. "Kingdom" and "Anytime" might not have been massive radio hits, but they filled out the atmosphere of the album. They created a cohesive world.
The Legacy of Man of Colours
So, what are we left with?
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Man of Colours represents the absolute peak of the Australian recording industry's ambition in the 80s. It proved that a local band could take the most cutting-edge technology, mix it with classical sensibilities and top-tier pop songwriting, and conquer the world.
It’s an album about isolation, art, and the struggle to communicate, all wrapped up in a package that sounds like a million dollars. It’s the reason why, decades later, when Icehouse tours, they aren't just a nostalgia act. They’re playing songs that have become part of the cultural DNA.
If you’re looking to dive back into this record or discover it for the first time, here is the best way to handle it.
Listen to the 20th or 30th Anniversary Remasters.
The original 80s CD pressings can sound a bit "thin" because of the way digital mastering worked back then. The newer remasters bring out the bottom end and the warmth of the Fairlight textures.
Watch the "Electric Blue" video on a big screen.
Don't just watch it on your phone. Look at the framing, the color grading, and the sheer 80s-ness of it. It’s a masterpiece of the medium.
Pay attention to the lyrics of "Man of Colours."
It’s easy to get lost in the melody, but the lyrics are surprisingly deep for a "pop" song. It’s a meditation on the limitations of being an artist.
Check out the live versions.
Icehouse was—and is—a phenomenal live band. Iva Davies’ voice has held up remarkably well. Seeing them perform these tracks live reveals just how much "rock" is actually buried under those synthesizers.
Search for the 12-inch remixes.
The 80s was the era of the extended mix. The 12-inch versions of "Crazy" and "Electric Blue" aren't just repetitive loops; they’re often entirely different interpretations of the songs that highlight the intricate production layers.
Icehouse didn't just make an album; they made a monument. Man of Colours remains a high-water mark for production and pop craft. It’s cold, it’s blue, it’s digital—and yet, it’s incredibly human.
Next Steps for the Listener
- Audit your audio source: If you're streaming, ensure you're using a high-bitrate service. The dense layering in Man of Colours gets muddy on low-quality MP3s.
- Compare the eras: Listen to "Icehouse" (the song) from their debut album, then listen to "Man of Colours." Notice how the use of space and silence changed as Davies became more comfortable with studio technology.
- Explore the Fairlight history: Look up the "Fairlight CMI" to see the actual machine used to build these sounds. It puts the technical achievement of the album into a whole new perspective.