Bleach Lab – Lost In A Rush Of Emptiness

Dream Pop

86%

 

There’s a recurring theme in fairy tales and folklore about the power of names. Never let a fae creature know your name, otherwise they’ll have power over you. Luckily it doesn’t work with any old name, it has to be your true name. The one that’s hidden from everyone, even yourself. It’s only when you have a complete understanding of a thing, knowing it better than it knows itself, that its true name is revealed. Only then will it follow your every whim. 

London based quartet Bleach Lab know the name of a feeling that can’t be named. That empty void in the pit of your stomach after a piece of bad news. The kind of loneliness that still persists even in a crowded room. Longing to message your friends but some part of you is scared of bothering them. Staring off into the distance out of a train window and dissociating, lest you be left alone with your thoughts. I have no name for that cold, dispassionate gnawing sensation, but Bleach Lab clearly do, as Lost In A Rush Of Emptiness shows a complete understanding and mastery of it. The dreamy haze hides a dull heartache that always hums just below the surface, Jenna Kyle’s tender vocals both smouldering with emotion yet also toying with the palpable potential of words left unsaid. The whole record slowly growing the numb void within, before hitting you with another killer line to reverberate around the empty space, compelling you to feel again. Even the artwork feels like a perfect window into the sounds and emotions waiting within, capturing a sense of isolation while the world around you is nothing but a blur. 

At times the empty feeling is just presented at face value; tracks like ‘Counting Empties’ and ‘Smile For Me’, which touch on alcoholism and sexual harassment respectively, understandably show the band at their darkest. Yet where the band shines brightest, where they’re most adept at understanding and shaping emotion, is in the moments where they are able to find beauty in nothingness. “I’ve been numb for so long, ‘Cause I’d rather feel nothing than everything at once” – these words aren’t whispered out between tears, they’re part of the record’s most effervescent chorus, dancing and shimmering above a buoyant bass line. The band recognise the healing power of catharsis, how the mere act of being able to voice what’s going on in your head can be uplifting in itself. Likewise the sense of comfort that stems from connecting with someone who gets what you’re going through, how a shared moment of vulnerability can help ground you. When you’re lost in a fugue state, sometimes the faintest candle flame of compassion can feel like a lighthouse on a jagged shoreline. 

Bleach Lab bend the fog to their design, but most always provide a beacon to guide a way through. The true crime inspired ‘All Night’ opens the record by offering the kind of headrush you feel from being halfway tipsy, ‘Indigo’ sees some elegant strings peeking through the haze in its latter half, while the bittersweet one-sided romanticism of ‘Saving All Your Kindness’ is the kind of track that glows like an ember in the deepest recesses of your heart. Everywhere you turn the album is awash with light and tender melodies acting as a soft comforting voice to hone in on while a distant storm rumbles. This calm resolve is felt most potently at the album’s close with ‘Leave The Light On’ and ‘Life Gets Better’. The former a vulnerable plea, asking someone to stay, longing and hoping that a fleeting connection could mean something more, and clinging on to that person like a life raft for fear of drowning (“Please leave the light on, I can’t bear to be alone, I’ve been waiting years for someone who feels like home“). The latter takes an empty platitude and seeks to make it true, with the gorgeous extended outro ending things on an uplifting note, lingering a while longer as though there’s more to the story still to be written.

You know the feeling when you step into a warm room out of the biting cold? How the numbness in your fingers gives way to a hot needling sensation. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain, as it means you’re starting to feel again. That experience is what Lost In A Rush Of Emptiness provides on an emotional level. Each listen numbs and thaws your heart every bit as much as the last, weathering down the walls you’ve built up within. Bleach Lab have delivered a near perfect dream pop record on their first try, and it’s one of the most moving and expressive releases of the year.