As Bust's Eliza C. Thompson has noted, "What’s most impressive about the Portland-based band [Blouse] is their ability to pack in so much atmosphere and emotion while always remaining slightly aloof". Drowned in Sound's Hayley Avron has made a similar observation: "Sub-aqua synths, kooky bass lines and sultry vocals make for a seriously cool experience. It’s Germanic and aloof, yet somehow moving enough to make you feel as though your heart is inching its way up your windpipe in a bid for freedom".
"Into Black", a track from Blouse's 2011 self-titled album, fits into the moving-yet-aloof paradox, standing out for its atmospheric density, swirling New Order-esque guitars and bassist Jacob Portrait's ability to anchor the track in a steady, progressive pulse. Vocalist Charlie Hilton manages to sound otherworldly and commanding at the same time, delivering verses that describe a significant other in metaphysical terms:
'You're like a pictureYou're never gonna be the same thing againBut it's a strike of lightningEvery time you lookEvery time you listenWhat do the gods knowThey'll never see the stars look as small as thisAnd you're a strike of lightningMaking up a sky for the gods to kiss with'
The contrast between the song's sensuality and abstract imagery creates an interesing effect, as does their retro Reagan-era aesthetic. Lindsay Zoladz notes that "Blouse find the connection between the limits of outdated technology and the terrible bliss of desiring something impermanent" - the impermanence of desire, attraction and intimacy seems to be the subject of the chorus, where Hilton cryptically intones: 'I want to watch it fade into/ I want to watch it fade into black'.
There's a subtle strangeness here - an emotional intensity expressed in a subdued manner - that makes for an intriguing listen. The second verse simple extends the mystery of the lyrical persona's connection to the significant other as the songs reaches a crescendo without a conclusion:
'What of the missileIt doesn't even own its own way to goThat's not the way they made youThe colors of your eyes are like a stained glass windowAnd when your tears fallYou never really see them when they hit the groundBut when they do they rise backOver to the gods raining on the god ground'
