Bleed

Bleed’s self-titled LP maintains the melodic heaviness and tight song structures of the EP, while diving headfirst into the oceanic haze, pushing their sound into territory more immersive, relentless and hypnotically lush. Guitars surge and sway in stacked waves of gravitational angst, overdriven rhythms eccentrically pulsing beneath, and guitarist / singer Ryan Hughes’s voice floating in and out, sometimes distant and detached, sometimes cracked open with desperation. Lyrics move in fragments, alluding to themes of deep internal struggle, coping mechanisms and hurting those you love most. It’s music that doesn’t so much demand attention as seeps straight into the bloodstream, the kind of album that endlessly loops in the back of the mind at 3 a.m. There’s a confidence to the way Bleed let’s these songs unfold, they make their impact immediate and have no need to persist longer than necessary. The result is an album that feels massive yet intimate, brutal yet beautiful, familiar yet singular. It doesn’t simply leave an impression, it lingers, reverberating long after the final notes have faded. By: Dave Adelson Photos by: Dylan Shay