Indie-rock duo Gone From My Sight dropped their debut album, Twenty Twenty, in the middle of October.
Made up of Quinn Raymond and Keith Watts, Gone From My Sight describes their sound, “Basically, it’s lo-fi indie synth-rock with handclaps and an 808, and a very sad, paranoid voice wondering why we’re all here, where we’re going after, and if it even matters. The kick drums thud slowly but loudly like beating hearts, and of course, inevitably fade out.”
Their name – Gone From My Sight – was taken from the little blue ‘how to book’ hospices give to the dying, and mirrors the fleeting aura of everything.
Twenty Twenty is the outcome of the pair’s failed attempts as producers and studio musicians for other artists, including Destiny’s Child and the Shivers. In the end, they decided to put their talents to use making their own music.
Embracing nine-tracks, Twenty Twenty starts off with “Chrome Dynasty,” which opens on oscillating synths topped by a dreamy, wafting, melancholic voice flowing into a low-slung alt-rock melody flavored by dark, pulsing textures.
The lyrics project the feeling of living amid a population destined to the inevitable status of nothing.
“Round and round and round we go / It’s all the same it’s all we know / But it’s not us / Living in the city of Chrome / Miles and miles and miles we roam / We kill ourselves but no one knows / But it’s not us / Living in the city of Chrome / No it’s not us living in the city of Chrome.”
Highlights on the album include “Basehed,” traveling on glittering percolations of slightly jarring coloration, riding a crunching, syncopated rhythm while panting vocals infuse the lyrics with the incalculability of life and activity. The melody shifts to eerie tones, pervading the tune with tight tension.
“The Float” drifts on industrial percussion as a hushed voice narrates the emptiness of floating through space. Stripped down yet irresistibly alluring, this track simmers with shadowy filaments of dripping colors.
“Big Day Out” features a light sparkling keyboard capped by a lonely voice, followed by deep, vibrating echoes flowing into the loose, mechanical pop of the snare accompanied by a raw bassline. Almost dirge-like, the tune trembles with portentous layers of sound.
The final track, “The Morning After,” shivers with taut billowing waves of hazy textures as Beatles-like vague vocals glide overhead, while strata of quivering percussion imbue the tune with throbbing essence, akin to a beating heart.
Twenty Twenty conveys the sonic futile yearning for the unattainable in the middle of a world where everything is transitory.