Blums

BIOGRAPHY

As Blums, Brooklyn-based musician Kelsea Feder makes all we can’t touch tangible: the edge of a world crumbling, an art-pop fantasia spinning in a cycle it’s determined to break, the sound of our own eruption. Having honed her technical chops playing and singing with fellow New York scene fixtures like fantasy of a broken heart, May Rio, and Shallowhalo—all while working through a slow recording process with co-producer Kirk Palsma—her first full-length release arrives as a collage of all the selves she’s been on the road to its release. From a childhood spent tearing up old Hollywood musical VHS tapes, to a stint working in a jazz bar during which she started writing her own material, to time spent gigging with her own power-pop band around Bushwick, it all bleeds into the record’s ephemeral, glitchy soundscape, stitched together by lyrics itching to escape the wheel their writer has been spinning on. It’s nearly impossible to hold the universes of feeling that exist within one person through any artistic medium, but through Blums—whose sound builds on both a storied singer-songwriter tradition and the chaos of the record’s largely experimental creative process—Feder dreams up a fantasy world you can dare to hold in your own hands, if only for the length of a pop song.