Review: Bodywash – I Held the Shape While I Could

The title of Bodywash‘s new record, I Held the Shape While I Could, is a perfect summary of how it feels to be barely holding your life together and then finally, sometimes blissfully, being able to drop that façade when you’re alone and just cry your eyes out.

The record was made as both Rosie Long Decter and Chris Steward were coming out points in their lives that had resulted in dissatisfaction, alienation, boredom, and heartbreak. Opening track “In As Far” sets up a major theme of the album (breaking through ennui by being willing to face it head-on) with Steward’s synths that burst open like the sun through clouds. “Picture Of” has Decter reminiscing about a past lover and how sometimes the memory is better than the relationship truly was (“You were hard to believe, asking everything close. You were hard to prove. Something to see and not know.” / “I decide to lie and wait, picture of desire in a frame.”)

“Massif Central” is Steward’s buzzing shoegaze tale of losing his Canadian work status in 2020 due to a typographical error, thus leaving him alienated and unemployed just as we were all hearing the early warnings of the pandemic. “Bas Relief” is an instrumental, sounding like ocean waves and wind and some kind of early 1990s mall music tape that’s been left near a space heater.

Steward sings about trying to fit in as half-Japanese, half-British (“To feel half is not to feel whole.”) and Canadian. “Kind of Light” is about Decter trying to fit in after after the end of a relationship while others are enjoying love around her (“Pull back all the ways you count her gone. Spend a year living trying to hold yourself to a certain kind of light.”)

“One Day Clear” is almost a spoken word piece as Decter tells a lonely tale and Steward plays simple, hypnotic, looping synths behind her. “Sterilizer” is a tale full of bright shoegaze guitars while discussing the idea trying to make a relationship work, but knowing, in your heart, that, while it feels good now, it’s probably going to make both of you bitter in the long run (“We talk inside of swallowed pride, still I warm your sleep tonight.”).

“Dessents” floats right into the snappy, electro-thumping “Ascents” – which is a lovely song about Decter and Steward’s friendship forged even harder during their long drives to gigs while working out their relationship woes. The shimmering sound and wispy vocals on “Patina” (another song about moving past an ended relationship) remind one of some Besnard Lakes tracks, which isn’t surprising when you consider that Jace Lasek from The Besnard Lakes recorded and mixed the album.

Decter is at least in the process of healing by the time we get to “No Repair.” Her vocals are a bit melancholy, but her voice doesn’t seem to be carrying as much weight, and the instrumentation behind her helps rejuvenate her and us. Lyrics like “And sometimes when I’m quiet and alone, I need no repair. If this is as far as it goes, write it in handfuls of air. You were there.”

That’s a lovely lyric to end a lovely album.

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Bodywash release “No Repair” ahead of their new album due this April.

Photo by Kristina Pedersen

Bodywash — the Montreal duo of Chris Steward and Rosie Long Decter — present their new single/video, “No Repair,” from their forthcoming albumI Held the Shape While I Could, out April 14th on Light Organ Records. Following lead single “Massif Central” and its “infinite heights” (FLOOD), “No Repair” swells with lap steel by Micah Flavin, evoking a melancholy waltz while Long Decter’s hummed vocals drift in and out of time. “Write it in handfuls of air,” she sings on the ballad, “you were there,” insisting on both absence and presence in the end. “No Repair” features Ryan White on percussion and was mixed by Jace Lasek (The Besnard Lakes) with Harris Newman mastering the track.

Long Decter explains: “In my early 20s I found myself in a disastrous love triangle—or what Chris took to calling my ‘bizarre love oblong.’ It was a mess of bad decisions and repressed queer longing and those things you chase because you hope they will prove you are real. I found myself writing repetitively about light and air and the absence of tactility. ‘No Repair’ came from the decision to let all that go; to try to lose the shape of it. I started writing it in 2019 and finished it with Chris in 2021, letting it simmer over two years of lockdown and sitting with myself. It feels strange and sweet to be releasing it at a time when I have a new sense of ground underneath me and someone to share that feeling with. The video, filmed in my living room (and briefly in an outdoor parking lot during -30 Celsius), puts some of those themes into a different context. Loneliness after a party transforms into a dismantling of things, and rearranging them somewhere else.”

 
Watch Bodywash’s “No Repair” Video
 

Over I Held the Shape While I Could’s twelve tracks, Steward and Long Decter reflect on their separate and shared experiences of losing a sense of place, the way something once solid can slip between your fingers, and their attempts to build something new from the fallout. As they prepared to release their 2019 debut Comforter, Long Decter and Steward both experienced alienating shifts in their personal lives, leading to a mutual sense of dislocation. They began writing new material that was darker, more experimental, and at the same time more invigorating than the soothing dream pop on Comforter. The resulting I Held the Shape While I Could is a record that lives in the sonics of decay and renewal: breaks that burst forth from a squall of fuzz guitars, drones that glitch and stutter like ice willing itself to thaw.

There are many places like home, and on I Held the Shape While I Could, home is a mutable thing; a location that is fixed until it isn’t. Across the record, Steward’s abstract guitars and Long Decter’s cascading vocals act as ambient throughlines, blurring the digital and organic, gesturing toward something intangible, just out of reach. Home is a process — the back and forth of guitar riffs and vocal hums, of files sent and received across the ocean. A world imagined and sculpted together.

Alongside I Held the Shape While I Could, Bodywash will release Take Form, a 30-page booklet that expands the world of the album. Designed by Yoon Rachel Nam (Desert Bloom, Cedric Noel), Take Formfeatures the complete album lyrics alongside poems, a short story, and guitar tabs by Long Decter and Steward, as well as art by Kristina Pedersen. This 50-copy limited run creates a new resonance for the recordings.

 
Pre-order Take Form

Bodywash Tour Dates
Fri. Mar. 17 – Austin, TX @ Hotel Vegas (The Nothing Song SXSW 2023 Official Showcase – 9PM)
Sat. Mar. 25 – Boise, ID @ Treefort Fest – Neurolux
Tue. Mar. 28 – Portland, OR @ No Fun Bar *
Wed. Mar. 29 – Tacoma, WA @ Spanish Ballroom *
Fri. Mar. 31 – Seattle, WA @ Homegrown in the Basement *
Sat. Apr. 1 – Vancouver, BC @ 604 Studios *
Sun. Apr. 9 – Cleveland, OH @ Grog Shop
Mon. Apr. 10 – Chicago, IL @ Empty Bottle
Wed. Apr. 12 – Toronto, ON @ Baby G +
Thu. Apr. 13 – Ottawa, ON @ Live on Elgin
Sat. Apr. 15 – Montreal, QC @ La Sotterenea +
Mon. Apr. 17 – Boston, MA @ O’Brien’s
Tue. Apr. 18 – Philadelphia, PA @ The Fire
Fri. Apr. 21 – Manhattan, NY @ Berlin
 
* w/ Vox Rea
+ w/ Tallies

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Bodywash release “Massif Central” from upcoming album, “I Held the Shape While I Could.”

Photo Credit: Kristina Pedersen

Bodywash — the Montreal duo of Chris Steward and Rosie Long Decter — announces its new album,
I Held the Shape While I Could, out April 14th on Light Organ Records, and shares the lead single/video, “Massif Central.” Over I Held the Shape While I Could’s twelve tracks, Steward and Long Decter reflect on their separate and shared experiences of losing a sense of place, the way something once solid can slip between your fingers, and their attempts to build something new from the fallout. On lead single “Massif Central,” stark guitars and relentless drums accompany Steward’s whispered vocals as he recounts an experience of bureaucratic purgatory: a typo in a government letter caused Steward to lose his legal work status in Canada.

“After eight years living in Canada, in the Spring of 2021, a government clerical error caused me to lose my legal status here,” Steward explains. “As a UK national, I lost my right to work. My savings trickled away during months where I could do little but pace the corners of my apartment. I was prepared to pack my bags and leave as the life I’d hoped to construct for myself seemed to vanish into a bureaucratic abyss.”

“‘Massif’ is the sound of wailing into a cliff and not knowing if you’ll hear an echo,” continued Steward. “The spoken word is inspired by a squirrel that was trapped in the wall behind my bed, clawing its way to salvation. With the help of friends, family, music, and a few immigration lawyers (and the rest of my savings), I’m now a permanent resident here. But this song remains as testament to my experience with an exploitative institution.”

The accompanying video by Jordan Allen is a stunning collage of live footage, distorted visuals, and eerie graphics. “With ‘Massif Central,’ we wanted to encapsulate the panic and urgency that Chris experienced, and have the abstracts portray the anxiety and hopelessness one can feel at the hands of bureaucracy,” Allen adds. “I chose graphics that heavily leaned into feelings of being lost in a maze, with towering structures and horizon lines pulling you into them. The idea was that the camera would be both a CCTV view of the band, but also glitching to reveal the more emotionally internal visual aspects.”

 
Watch “Massif Central”
 Steward and Long Decter met in college in 2014, but didn’t immediately share a musical language. Chris grew up in London listening to British dream pop and classic shoegaze; Rosie was raised in Toronto on folk and Canadiana. Working toward their own blend of airy vocals, intricate guitar work and atmospheric synths, they released their debut EP as Bodywash in 2016 and their first full-length, Comforter, in 2019.

As they prepared to release Comforter, Long Decter and Steward both experienced alienating shifts in their personal lives, leading to a mutual sense of dislocation. They began writing new material that was darker, more experimental, and at the same time more invigorating than the soothing dream pop on Comforter. In 2021 they took these songs into the studio, sharing them with longtime drummer RyanWhite and recording/mixing engineer Jace Lasek (Besnard Lakes). The resulting I Held the Shape While I Could is a record that lives in the sonics of decay and renewal: breaks that burst forth from a squall of fuzz guitars, drones that glitch and stutter like ice willing itself to thaw.

There are many places like home, and on I Held the Shape While I Could, home is a mutable thing; a location that is fixed until it isn’t. Across the record, Steward’s abstract guitars and Long Decter’s cascading vocals act as ambient throughlines, blurring the digital and organic, gesturing toward something intangible, just out of reach. Home is a process — the back and forth of guitar riffs and vocal hums, of files sent and received across the ocean. A world imagined and sculpted together.

 
Pre-order I Held the Shape While I Could

Keep your mind open.

[Don’t forget to subscribe while you’re here.]

[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]