‘I Am The Day’ begins quietly but not serenely, the repeated chords introduce a sense of mystery. Ben Crawley's voice likens to threads of gossamer where the magic that he sprinkles through the notes is like catching beads of morning light. A boundless spirit, the Night and Day, Ben indulges in realising through music what the words say.

A single chord signifies the brightening of the bridge passage where the boys split and descend on alternating notes, wavering as an implied reverberation of themselves. Their voices sound more attentive in preparation of the looming chorus. It comes as a huge swell - a surge of fresh air, a wash of light, the new morning. The sound rings gloriously at the top. At its repetition, more voices appear to answer the soaring melody overhead.

Away, the air is weightless, wispy. Something stirs, a passing shiver - this time Ben is heard as a luminous shadow, a memory of what once was or a foretelling of what will be. His whisper is dissolved by a piercing calling on the wind, a hazy thought or imagination to be grasped.

But through that wind, the warmth returns with the passage of decree and finishes with the soaring chorus, an incredible climatic ascent into eternity. As the emotive journey ends in this world, the light fades and the breath that is left behind peters and slips away as a floating reminder that who is the Day.

Copyright © 2004 Merewyn Bramble, Benj Schatzmann, Stewart Simpson