Artistry encapsulated by way of an extensive conceptual project, wholly devoted to its underlying themes and imagery – Kross Irwin screams passionate conviction and compositional prowess, throughout the superb new album the boy who died, but had no funeral.
Making bold promises with the artwork and title of this project alone, Kross Irwin more than delivers on the high-quality appeal implied – watch me bleed opens up the sixteen-track collection with an instant blurring of lines between genres.
The focus is story and sentiment, the voice meandering between spoken and melodic moments, captivating for its theatrical yet honest commitment to the moment, and elevating the mood with a catchy hook and brilliantly enchanting, all-consuming production. It’s a strong start, and things continue to fly high from here.
Soon enough we kick into trap rhythms, dreamy soundscapes and a consistently powerful fusion of melodic hooks and lyrical depth. Kross Irwin brings refreshingly original bars and musicianship united throughout each and every moment. It’s a familiar contemporary vibe but not, something likable and memorable, fusing genres in a way that will no doubt transcend the barriers of style to connect for its humanity and immersive musical qualities combined.
rich to broke depicts this approach well as we move on, before i feel dead brings a pop-punk-style evocative ballad of sorts – both bright and broken at its core. An anthem on behalf of pain and escapism, a defiant highlight and a great example of the central emotions and experiences of the album.
Kross Irwin calls out on behalf of longing to connect, to belong and feel present, to feel valuable and alive again – feelings no doubt the majority of modern music fans will have been through in recent years. This whole album acts as a comforting blanket of validation and understanding, not sugar-coating anything but rather celebrating it musically and delving in poetically with fearless honesty and gritty realism.
Great songwriting stands tall – my heart burns unites melancholy and musical uplift, left me here to die similarly blends an infectious groove and undeniably dark lyrics. One other highlight includes the bass-heavy cinematic sound-play and drum-work of the high-octane Black Dress – an addictive anthem of a track that begs for you to stream it multiple times at volume.
Really though, not a moment is wasted here – music that artistically finds its own unique space, not unlike the approach of Twenty One Pilots, somewhere between modern emo rap, nostalgic rock, screamo, , timeless electronic rock and EDM. Kross Irwin has carved out a pathway all of his own, and the boy who died, but had no funeral deserves every bit of attention and appreciation for that truth.
Find Kross Irwin on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & the Website.
