big bliss releases “tell me when you’re ready”

big bliss releases “tell me when you’re ready”

A continuously persistent beat, vulnerable and “voodoo” themes — there is no helping of a looming irony in Big Bliss‘ new single, “Tell Me When You’re Ready.” Big Bliss recently had a new member join, and now the band of three is a trio against all odds. 

The new single is a deeply personal one — a sense of struggle, introspection, and a longing for change. There is a desire for a different and better day, indicating a recognition that something needs to change in life. It is that awful but important first step of recognizing change is needed, and it is in that recognition that there is hope for change to come. 

For one, the beat cycles through and through, creating a numbing and nauseating effect not exactly being in the present. It’s a fever dream. The line “Make an effort or pretend that I don’t know why I’m so tired” suggests a feeling of weariness and a possible attempt to deny or ignore the underlying reasons behind it. It is so deeply profound because in that state, there is still an overpowering draw to force everything negative back and create a facade in front of not just everyone, but oneself, too. 

My personal favorite line — the repeated phrase “I have a name for it now” implies that the speaker has finally identified or labeled their struggles or emotions. The internal battle between wanting to escape and the awareness that there might be a name, a diagnosis for these feelings, reflects the complexity of navigating one’s mental and emotional well-being. This newfound awareness signifies a step towards confronting and addressing one’s issues directly. 

As the song progresses, there is an intangible feeling of both hope and uncertainty. There is finally acknowledgment of the possibility for a better future, fueled by the anticipation of new innovations and potential solutions. However, they also express hesitation in vocalizing the true nature of their struggle, perhaps due to fear of judgment or stigmatization. The imagery of being intoxicated and alone, while experiencing a warm glow in their spine, captures the contradictory emotions that can arise from seeking temporary relief amidst internal turmoil. 

Though on the surface “TMWYR” is addressing the struggle to sobriety, Tim Race comments that his “example is addiction, but ultimately TMWYR is about the experience of confronting fear and letting a desperate search for ‘what’s missing’ end.” It applies to everyone because we’re all human. We fear, we struggle, and most importantly, we perceive the world around us with utmost importance. We all have shared adversity. It’s just a matter if there are those who have the strength to speak about it and empower the rest of us, and that’s exactly what Big Bliss has done to me — “TMWYR” is a powerful anthem, encapsulating the human experience of grappling with fear, searching for fulfillment, and ultimately finding the resilience to confront our inner demons. It is that lighthouse in the harbor for me, and I hope you find it as confoundingly eye-opening as I did.

psychedelic vibeology: embracing the natural connection with valley

psychedelic vibeology: embracing the natural connection with valley

Introducing Valley, the Canadian indie-pop sensation that has captured hearts worldwide with its infectious melodies and heartfelt lyrics. Now, they are back with their highly anticipated album Lost in Translation, a sonic journey that explores the complexities of love, self-discovery, and the universal quest for meaning. With their signature blend of shimmering synth-pop, lush harmonies, and introspective songwriting, Valley delivers an enchanting and relatable experience that transcends borders and speaks to the soul. 

One of the songs in Lost in Translation — “Natrual” — comes with its own music video that delves into themes of healing and natural bonds between different souls. 

The music video opens with an individual walking into some sort of a rustic, classically American bar, wearing what looks to be clean and sunflower-y but otherwise dull clothing. He doesn’t seem to belong, compared to the several groups of conversationalists and dart-throwers. Quick to change, he leaves from a changing area, donning a metallic top and unquestionably less stiff pants. And he comes back sporting top-tier energy. 

It’s not so much the outfit as rocking dance moves, this man has had a real confidence boost and he’s not afraid to light up the atmosphere. Most noticeably, the lighting is sunset-ethereal-like, but the majority of the space is enveloped in shadows. Somehow, I believe that the lighting represents the divide between the beautiful light, the facade we put on for the world, versus the shadows, our own dark inner worlds. 

There is a mirror, and the man is standing in front of it. He is alone when he wears his original attire, but when he wears his party outfit, others surround him, highlighting that his change comes in tandem with company. And of course, he is much happier. The cameras pan to him taking over the dance floor without a hint of his previous self. The transformation is remarkable as he moves with newfound confidence and uninhibited joy. 

The pulsating beats of Valley’s Lost in Translation provide the perfect soundtrack to this moment, amplifying the euphoria and capturing the essence of the album’s theme – the power of music to transcend barriers and transform lives. As the crowd joins him, their collective energy ignites, and for that fleeting moment, they are all lost in the music, lost in the magic, and united by the universal language that Valley so effortlessly captures.