Blouse – S/T (2011) [Captured Tracks] // Grade: B+

Soft to the touch, Portland’s very own Blouse is a silky menagerie of lulling vocals and wistful 80’s-inspired frequencies. Every song on their self-titled debut is built up, somewhat, around the singing of female lead, Charlie Hilton, with tones that pronounce, support, and revere her gorgeously forlorn voice. Put it this way, if voices had a thread count, this chick’s would be fine Egyptian cotton.

It goes without saying that the vocals constitute the majority of the album’s pathos but don’t make the mistake of ignoring the elaborate synth that rests in the heart of each track. Whirring transmissions and reclusive dancepop are unraveled and folded neatly into one another as songs carry on. “Firestarter”, the opener, is traditional sounding in the grand scheme of the record. The moping guitar and generic drums are like spotless linens spread over the table, dressing the naked frame of Hilton’s lone words.

The clock ticks, not a single knock. “They Always Fly Away” and “Into Black” share a fleeting optimism that isn’t easily ‘danced off’. Sadness meets resentment as the keyboard whines and buzzes. “Videotapes” and “Roses” play on, echoing through the house as a reminder of this solitary night and all those that came before it. “Fountain in Rewind” is a witching finale that blows the candles out, melty melodies dripping like wax.

Plainly said, this release is as heartbreaking as it is stunningly rhythmic. So nobody showed up to your sweet sixteen? Drop the Leslie Gore routine and put on a Blouse, crybaby.

- Casper