CHASING A “DULL BLISS” AS SAINTHOOD REPS RETURN
As the nights grow colder, the leaves change, and people begin unpacking their flannels, Sainthood Reps have released the perfect album for long drives on cold nights. DULL BLISS is a somber-sounding reunion for the band. Following the release of Monoculture in 2011, Headswell in 2013, and a few singles, the band took a hiatus before reuniting during the COVID-19 pandemic. Now they’re back together and ready to share a project that has been 3 years in the making. DULL BLISS is the perfect addition to a cozy playlist and a season of introspection.
Coming into the album, a grainy recording of keys from a record player immediately fills this track with nostalgia. “Doesn’t Exist” has these surfy riffs that warp throughout the song. The vocals are echoing and beautifully harmonized. The lyrics speak to two contrasting forms of limitlessness, and the way every note seems to trail into the next works wonderfully to build on that feeling. The cacophony of sound that comes in at the end, full of screeching violin overlapping with the existing rhythm, makes the song feel like a dream collapsing into a nightmare.
“Blue Dream” slightly shifts in tone, going from the previous surfer vibe into something more skater/grunge. The nihilistic tone of everything contrasts with how much life and energy is injected in the sound. Then the switch up into the spoken lyrics and soft breakdown makes things feel aggressive. The way this section is also more bass-driven makes it shine with a new depth. The riffs that close out the song, as they continuously climb only to collapse into the final chorus, complete the track with a lovely, dramatic flair.
Lyrically, “Dizzy” is one of the more depressing songs on the album. Full of self-loathing and misery, it’s an ode to miscommunication. The drums really steal the show in a lot of this song. Providing a two-step inspiring tempo throughout the entire piece. There’s a mini guitar solo that pops up and almost sounds like a stylophone in segments, and also puts this quirky spin on things.
“You Stay You” is a much slower-paced drop. A song about coming to terms with the nature of another person and the harsh reality of them falling off the pedestal they were on. It’s harsh and real and feels like mourning someone who still exists. Filled with complicated questions and difficult truths, this makes for a really solid piece. The song is very vocals-forward, once again using a lot of harmonies and overlap. Still, the instrumental aspect of the song is charming in its slow build at the start. This song has a lot of sections that shine more in their quieter moments. The isolated guitar tones, the near tambourine-like cymbals, and the way the melody loops return listeners to that dreamlike state.
“Dull” starts with this heartbreaking acoustic guitar. The whole song is desaturated. Heavily relying on vocals, the song is cloying and pleading. The absence of any other instruments makes the song feel intimate. Like a glimpse into a journal entry. It’s cozy and somber.
“Bliss” is where the entire sensation of the album changes. Immediately bursting to life, it is the standout track for the album. It feels like the injection of sunlight in the gloom. There are fun guitar highlights in there that scream epic. The vocals are less casual and more attention-grabbing.
You can't help but sing along to the relatable and devastating lyrics. Even more so when you notice the backing vocals. The breakdown toward the end feels like a declaration. Then to conclude on the recording feels like a rug pull of the energy being nothing more than a mask for something much darker. It came away as my favorite just for the exciting range it has.
“Surfer” is the end-of-summer tinged return to form. Reminiscing on past joys and love that didn't last. Just like the contents of the lyrics, the instruments have taken off that surf tone again. Everything is bleeding into itself and echoing. Then, to fade out into one solid note feels like the fade of the memory.
“Is It Safe” does a great job of slowly building into itself. The way it opens with the bass loop into subtle drums, then the guitar provides a steady increase in drama. The vocals have this casual energy mixed with this oppressive air of uncertainty. In the middle of the song, everything erupts with this stylish guitar solo and crashing drums. So loud they almost drown out the vocals like an afterthought. Only for the song to abruptly return to the “safe” sound it had until it fades away.
We take a break for “Quinoa Valley Recording Company,” which is a simple and far-off-sounding interlude. Short and sweet in its warped sounds, the vocals unsteadily warble into play with the return of the acoustic guitar.
The energy cranks up in “Take It Easy (On Me)”. This song reaches out for connection and offers such a vulnerable energy. The instrumentals feel sunny. They’re loud, bright, and energetic. This song hits you with swooping riffs and punchy drums as well. It also implements the fade into acoustic move that weaves between songs on the album. The song ending on an extended guitar note makes it feel everlasting.
That note also bleeds into “(tell me your darkest memory)” which is an almost-creepy outro. The vocals are warped and inhuman-sounding. They only repeat the song’s title in irregular intervals. The usual instruments are absent as the words are spoken over a somber piano. It opens like a damaged record and fades into a gentle nothingness that perfectly sets up looping the album.
By the end of the album, you’re left feeling this profound sense of sadness. I think it makes the entire thing worth it, since it hits such emotional rawness. While not a completely miserable experience, the overarching themes of loss, grief, and longing make the whole thing feel extremely personal. It’s the perfect album for the season, and even better as a return for Sainthood Reps. Hopefully, even more good things are on the horizon.