Abundant in gorgeous orchestral-laden arrangements and sparsely affecting soundscapes alike, SUAS is the riveting debut album from Sour Blood, the project of theatre artist and musician Kevin Gleeson. Hailing from Tipperary, Ireland, Gleeson excels in crafting textured songs with ornate orchestration, often emerging from his delicately unveiling vocals and simmering structural growth. Brendan Jenkinson also contributes to the album, which was written and recorded between Gothenburg and Dublin.
Opening the album with submerged intrigue, “Landfill” swells with a heartbeat-like pulse and calming vocal layers. A ghostly lead floats with a meditative quality. A balmy twinkling emits an airy quality, like the calm before the storm; crackling distortion follows, persisting amidst the hazy vocal layers and into a concluding glistening. The ethereal vocals and audible assortment, from twinkling psychedelia to distortion-set vigor, produce an aesthetic fondly reminiscent of Panda Bear.
The subsequent “Bruise” brings Gleeson’s gorgeous vocals more to the forefront. Wintry piano tones accompany quickly, matching the elongated vocal delivery with delicate sophistication. Sporadic bursts of orchestration meld wonderfully with the escalated emotion, revealing a serene composure into a chillingly impactful conclusion. Both tonal and aesthetic variety appear throughout SUAS in enjoyable form. Art-pop and R&B inclinations stir on “Mysterious Creature,” sounding like a cross of Thom Yorke and James Blake, with shades of Sufjan Stevens’ electronic-minded Adz efforts as well. There are flashes of resemblance to talents such as these, while still retaining a grippingly idiosyncratic sound unique to Sour Blood.
The beautiful self-titled track is a further continuation of Gleeson’s knack for textural momentum; we featured the track in-depth here. A simmering warmness permeates the ensuing “The Devil,” lyrically depicting a moment when “the music stops,” following woodwind hypnotics and chiming keys. Beautiful vocal reflections appear sporadically into a stirring vocal rise, where bassy throbs and illuminated glistening converge masterfully amidst the lushly caressing vocals. “The Devil” puts on a clinic in striking atmospheric immersion.
“I’m lost in your headlights,” vulnerable vocals admit on “Neon Sign,” whose nocturnal soundscape compels with gentle pit-pattering percussion and soft piano spontaneity; its slowly unveiling beauty lends a tonally consistent range, while “Clot” follows with more of an anthemic ascent. Pulsing synths meld into a soaring vocal momentum, attaining a whirring sense of distortion as the conclusion approaches. Album finale “Overgrown” then arises with an easy-going folk dreaminess, as acoustics align with a forlorn vocal lingering and glimmering organ faintness. SUAS is a consistently enveloping showcase in quality songwriting and atmosphere from Sour Blood.
