White Blush's Carol Rhyu. (courtesy of White Blush)
White Blush, the project of Chicago by LA's Carol Rhyu deals in the cinematic spaces between the darkest patches of see and deepest space. While many Lynchian Twin Peaks metaphors and similes have already been used, our best analogy finds the meeting of the comforting and eerie ambient sound spheres akin to those purgatorial grounds between the Black and White Lodges. And like an ethereal concert at the Roadhouse, Carol's vocals are delivered in soft, forlorn tones that course through the bass-guitar-keyboard trifecta.
Seen recently playing a gig and hanging out with cult legend Gary Wilson at the Magic Monster Birthday Party, we can only wonder what thoughts and words were exchanged on synthesizer stylistics of both the dark and the surreal. Like Wilson's obsession with 50s Dion and that classic guitar cadence buried in effects on "Neptune", the solemn side of White Blush's midnight matinee approach could be the perfect collaborative sound to surround Gary's croons.
The high string key steers into the commencing slow-strum chord strike. With a tremolo-laden guitar twang careening along the driving bass pulses, the passion illustrated evokes those tense and funereal moments depicted in network late night films. Something in the sustain and sparse chords creates a soundtrack to be enjoyed on a feature shown on an aging television where the decades blend together like the bleeding fade of colors in the technicolor tube. The ballad written by Art Torres and Rhyu reaches those places between "Neptune" the planet and the mythical King Neptune of the sea. The synths deep-sea dive into the coldest oceanic darkest corners, while Carol's voice and guitar drifts take you to the surface and even higher above. The bass line evokes the song's central heartbeat, as you are carefully pendulumed from the heavens to the ocean.
The White Blush self-titled debut is available now and a full-length is in the works. Carol is also currently working on a screenwriting project.