“The Ethics Of Sadness.”
The return of the strings, an ambient, neo-classical introduction akin to each new musical journey from this artist. Bad Bubble‘s latest album March releases on Electric Eden Records, a heartfelt gift of realism for the Spring season, and it starts with the cinematic and deeply moving progression of El Principe.
Self-described as his ‘most deliberate and fully realised body of work’ so far, March is surprisingly intimate, mellow even, but also striking in its melodic and conceptual focus. The project steers away from the usual stories of Anna, and presents the beginning of a new chapter in the ever-distinct and devoted Bad Bubble venture.
a Memento proceeds with atmospheric storm sounds and a lush, hopeful piano part, with starkly juxtaposed lyrics of painful reflection and self-isolation, delivered by a quietly contemplative, aptly broken-hearted but later established and optimistic vocal sound.
Things rise, the passion grows, and the lyrics become all the more revealing. A wave-like movement through tuneful highs and lows, and Bad Bubble’s voice sounds beautiful – expressive and recognisable; that natural nuance and tone captured perfectly amidst these subtle but engaging effects.
“You will be able to fend for yourself if you must…. You will make it all okay… You Will make it better.”
Lyrics are the lifeblood of Bad Bubble’s work, something that shines brightly and grips you throughout March. Consider The Terrible Food Here as a provocative example. “It’s just a splinter in the eye of the beholder. Not a knife in the heart, a cold and dreary October.” The imagery, the familiar but left-of-centre references redirecting perspectives, and bringing life to feelings and ideas that most can never quite put into words.
March takes us through seasons, stories, and sentiments, all grounded by hypnotic piano parts and vocal layers sometimes minimal, sometimes more immersive. The title-track is lyrically brief but musically all-consuming, and afterwards, the lighter keys and whispered statements of A Big Second make for a rather mesmerising and emotional highlight. The words are fascinating, stopping you in your tracks quite frequently; a literary dissection essential and unique to each: “I’ll kidnap the rifles and stock them away, with the other independent mindful heroes.”
Bad Bubble is a poet, whose songs read like timeless artistic expressions of the depth of human grief, joy, uncertainty, and possibility. The Big Sting is a powerful example of that quality in full, personal but also vast in its consideration of the world and the role of the self within it. Another highlight, but the intimacy and piano pattern of I Don’t Know Where I Am falls beautifully into place afterwards.
Suddenly the emotion peaks vocally for How Come?, an impassioned and gritty fusion of layers – think Imogen Heap by design, something like Radiohead or Nine Inch Nails by performance and darkness. Then we become grounded again, by a simpler melodic structure that is the revealing Journal Entry, within which the confronting statement “I’m not all about myself anymore” rings loudly.
Soda Pop later brightens the musical landscape somewhat, a higher vocal sound and a lyrical density that takes more than a single listen to fully explore and connect with – a poetic complexity in keeping with the Bad Bubble catalogue of fearless vulnerability and writing.
Then to finish, something a little Kate Bush like, in my view – meandering synths and disjointed melodic fragments, presenting a promise or declaration of loyalty, and a free flowing artistic peak that’s subtle but sweeps through with poignancy, pride, and subtle power. The closing statement, the atmospheric details, all wrap up this book-like musical project with apparent reason and hope.
“That’s who I’m going to be… there… right beside you.”
Find Bad Bubble on Instagram, YouTube, Twitter & his Website.
