Bloom – Thousand Yard Stare

Nashville, Tennessee’s Bloom (the side project of Better Off‘s Luke Granered) really intrigued me with their curious pseudo-spoken-word album introduction, “2 AM Breakfast.”  The album, Thousand Yard Stare, opens with the bustling sound of a cook’s line in a busy diner; plates knocking gently, various kitchen gadgets buzzing, and the hum of patrons on the café floor set the scene before vocals chime in with a poetic passage.  Enhanced by a subtle electronic echo, the band spins the riddle: “the world knew what it bought into, no crime left to commit to, so blow smoke and swallow, and drink to tomorrow, know that I’m the fuel.”  It’s powerful but low key and plants a seed of wonderment.  The question quick becomes if Bloom can capitalize on their early intrigue.  The answer is muddier than a simple yes/no response, but by album end, “2 AM Breakfast” sadly feels like a missed opportunity.

Immediate follow-up, “Blue Valentine,” retreats to the safety of sleepy ambience.  Rather than capitalize on the excitement of the diner’s backdrop, the band pursues the vocal reserve for a track longer.  Without any significant changes in mood or atmosphere the track crawls with sleepy guitars and low, monotone vocals that drag each word past the point of engagement.  Even the final instrumental guitar could gladly be omitted once it’s clear how much more potential lies ahead.  “Yet” startles awake (it’s alive!) with acoustic chords transforming into booming distorted output that matches the vocal’s sudden burst of emotions.  The track is worthy of some post-punk and alt-indie comparisons like Brand New and Nai Harvest for all the right reasons.

Here in lies the album dichotomy: a minority of songs perk up while the remainder backtrack into darkness.  When there’s a spark, as per “Losers,” it’s a bright one.  But by and large it reverts back to the shadows for songs like “Lung Cancer” where dim music gets paired with depressing lyrics like “live in a hole, dark down deep and alone, you cry cause it’s all that you know.”  The title track embarks on a meandering minute long ambient outro that drags the song well past it’s best before date.  “You Can’t Always Be Juggling Blood And Fire” even stalls with a similar backdrop (this time a muffled conversation) that opened the album.  The trick loses its initial appeal after the six fairly uneventful tracks before fail to build any sense of excitement or purpose in the interim.

By album end Thousand Yard Stare bares all the marks of a letdown with an intriguing start.  Songs drag their feet and the tempo crawls sluggishly.  The few points of appeal are too few and scattered and merely hint at what could have been had Bloom blossomed more completely.  With only a minority of tracks worth staying the course for, only the most diehard in the post-punk/indie scene need apply.