Album Review: Bleach Lab - 'Lost In A Rush of Emptiness'
London-based four piece Bleach Lab have been steadily building a name of themselves on the indie circuit for some time now. From their first release ‘Heartache of the Season’ to now, the band have spent the last two years crafting track after track of ethereal dream pop. At long last, the band are releasing their debut full length album, Lost In A Rush of Emptiness today via Nettwerk.
The band once more revel in their ability to twist the raw and painful into glimmering melodies that offer a sense of solace. The album opens with a thud of drum beats and a wash of signature dreamy guitars before frontperson Jenna Kyle’s gossamer vocals soar in. The song builds swiftly in texture, setting a hazy atmosphere for the rest of the album.
The track list glides from heavier tunes such as ‘Indigo’ – set to be a crowd pleaser with its earworm chorus and thundering drums – into gentler, sadder songs such as ‘Saving All Your Kindness’. As they slip from song to song, the band place a different life experience under their sonic microscope. Bleach Lab’s songwriting power is most evident when they write about their specific experiences, while simultaneously offering lyrics that anyone could find comfort in.
In stand-out track, ‘Counting Empties’, the band explores bassist and co-lyricist Josh Longman’s experiences with alcoholism and the impact on close relationships. Kyle’s usually airy vocals take on a huskier, deeper tone; matching the somberness of the topic. There is an element of despondency as she laments “I’ll be counting empties // until you love me // there’s emptiness inside of me”. Even those unfamiliar to the throes of an alcohol dependency can find a sense of understanding and sympathy through the illustrative lyricism.
In sharing these extremely intimate moments, Bleach Lab’s music is imbued with an undeniable authenticity. Across their discography, their lyricism acts as therapy; not only for the band as they move through life’s curveballs, but for their listeners too. Bleach Lab’s music is a precious pocket of calm; a shelter from the raging storm.
Bleach Lab’s method of burrowing down into hardship, rather than achieving catharsis and peace through an explosion of sound, arguably yields more poetic results. Lost In A Rush of Emptiness sees the band come together to mull over the depth and scope of their feelings. It’s apt that the record is also the first time the band have come together in the same room to record live. Perhaps this literal closeness is what binds the record together so tightly.
Previous release ‘Nothing Left To Lose’ is a track that demands to be performed live. With its faster tempo, pushed forwards by the steady drums and rocky guitar melodies, it's easy to imagine the crowd moving in time to the music. As the song gathers pace, Kyle’s vocals swell to the crescendo of the chorus: “tearful and blue // nothing left to lose”. Suddenly the song drops to a cruising guitar riff and ripples with whooshing synths, while Kyle chants “I’m too sad to get over you // but I wanted to”. The song builds back up to the resounding climax: “am I enough for you?” – a lyric bound to be yelled back by audiences before the final chorus swings in.
Bleach Lab are as adept at writing tracks that fizz with vexation as they are at writing their softer, richer songs. In ‘Never Coming Back’, an angelic harmony drifts below velvet Kyle’s vocals, lifting at points to break to the surface beside the indie rock instrumental. Meanwhile ‘Leave A Light On’ is as light and silky as it is sorrowful.
Bleach Lab bring the same deft songwriting skill when they turn their pen from the deeply personal to more universal experiences. ‘Smile For Me’ delves into dealing with sexual harassment, in particular street harassment. Here, Kyle lends her vocals to examining the tension between feelings of intense rage and diminished power in these situations. The climatic chorus chants “keep your hands to yourself // I know it must be hard to think we don’t owe you anything”, instilling a sense of empowerment in listeners as it firmly places the blame of harassment on the harasser.
Penultimate track, the ethereal and glittering ‘Life Gets Better’, takes all the heartache and bruising and gently washes it away. Electronic chimes shimmer under the tranquil guitars and meditative singing, creating a sense of renewal and coming out on the other side.
The album closes out with ‘(Coda)’, a cinematic instrumental piece. Following on from the sense of hope instilled by ‘Life Gets Better’, the beautiful strings and simple piano melody give the audience a final moment of pause: to breathe and take stock before returning to the outside world.
In a society obsessed with focusing on the bright side and toxic positivity, Bleach Lab’s measured approach is a breath of fresh air. In giving themselves – and their listeners – the time and the space to delve into those feelings of melancholy and discomfort, we can perhaps find resolution and acceptance.
On the opening track of Lost In A Rush of Emptiness Kyle sings “I wanna feel like gold dust in your hands”. It's hard to not feel that Bleach Lab have got their wish with this sparkling debut album in their, and now our, hands.
Words by Ella McLaren
