Pure distorted fucking bliss!

Harrison Gordon’s BLISS feels like the kind of emo, indie rock, and punk record that has no interest in pretending everything is fine. What started as Gordon’s solo project in Normal, Illinois eventually became a full band, and that bigger lineup is all over this record. The guitars are louder, the rhythm section has more muscle, and the songs feel like they were built to be played in a packed basement with everybody yelling the words back. There’s plenty of Midwest emo and indie-punk DNA here, but Gordon has enough personality to keep the album from feeling like a collection of genre references. It’s loud, messy, emotional, catchy, and occasionally distorted to the point where I started wondering whether my speakers had something against me.

“Weirdo” immediately throws you into that world with slow guitar strums before the drums, guitars, and bass suddenly explode into the mix. The first thing that grabbed me was the sheer size of the low end. The bass is so distorted and thick that it almost feels like another guitar, constantly pushing against the rest of the arrangement. There are moments where the mix becomes a little blown out, but that excess also gives the song a raw physical quality. Gordon’s vocals are one of the strongest parts because he can move from singing into full-on emotional shouting without making either side feel forced. Even with all that distortion happening underneath him, there’s still a clear human voice at the center.

“Milwaukee Josh” settles into a more ringing indie-rock groove, and this is where the actual songwriting starts becoming easier to appreciate. The bass remains enormous, but when the band pull some of that low-end pressure back, the guitars become more expressive and the arrangement starts breathing. That balance between noise and melody is one of the album’s biggest strengths. Gordon understands that a song can be emotionally direct without becoming overly polished, and there’s a loose quality to the performances that makes everything feel more personal.

“Like Me Less” is probably one of the easiest songs to immediately latch onto. The riffs have a natural bounce, the vocals are catchy without sounding overly clean, and the drums give the whole track a sense of forward movement. Even the guitar solo manages to cut through that giant production instead of disappearing underneath it. The song also captures something Gordon does really well throughout BLISS: taking a feeling that could easily become overly serious and turning it into something you can actually shout along to. There’s vulnerability here, but there’s also enough energy and humor to keep it from becoming emotionally exhausting.

“Not Working! Not Working!” might be the clearest example of the album sounding completely locked in. The faster drumming creates urgency, the ringing guitars have more definition, and the reduced bass presence gives everything a little more room. Suddenly you can hear how tightly the different parts are interacting. Gordon’s vocals feel more immediate, and the whole song moves with the kind of momentum that makes it easy to picture live. It’s one of those tracks where the band don't need a massive production trick because the chemistry between the players is doing the work.

“Pretty” brings the oversized bass back into focus, but this time it feels more integrated into the arrangement. The bouncy guitars and quick drums make the song feel almost playful, while the softer sections give the track a little more shape. Instead of staying loud for the sake of being loud, the band use contrast to make the bigger moments matter. That becomes increasingly important as the record continues because BLISS is at its best when Gordon gives you something quieter to stand next to all the distortion.

That comes through especially well on “Scab.” The guitars soften, the bass becomes smoother, and Gordon’s vocal delivery turns much more vulnerable. This is one of the most emotionally effective moments on the album because the band don't try to force a huge climax. They let the song sit in its own sadness for a while before gradually expanding the arrangement. The guitar solo and distant backing vocals add just enough extra texture to make the track feel larger without ruining the intimacy. It’s a genuinely tender moment on an album that spends plenty of time trying to blow the fucking doors off.

“Sight of Blood” keeps things restrained with twangy guitars, a prominent kick drum, and subtle bass before “Middle Name” kicks the record back into a faster punk mode. That sequencing works because the two tracks feel completely different without either one sounding out of place. “Middle Name” is short, direct, and catchy, while Gordon’s vocals cut through the distortion with a much rougher edge. The song doesn't need a complicated arrangement because the rhythm and hook are strong enough to carry it.

“Oh God” continues the more reflective side of the record with deeper guitar tones and clearer vocals. The guest appearance from Excuse Me Who Are You? doesn't jump out particularly strongly, but the song doesn't really suffer because of it. “Buffalo Jim” then settles into another slower groove, using deeper drums and twangier guitar parts while the backing vocals add a little more atmosphere. These quieter tracks help make the record feel like a full album rather than a collection of punk songs with the volume turned up.

The title track, “Bliss,” finally brings all of that tension together. The ringing guitars slowly give way to huge distorted bass and pounding drums before the song shifts into a faster, more energetic section. The production is almost ridiculously big by this point, but here the excess feels intentional. The song sounds like a release of all the emotion that has been building across the record. Wailing guitar parts and repeated vocal lines give it an ending that feels more expansive than most of the songs that came before it.

The production is easily the most divisive part of BLISS. That distorted bass gives the record a sound that is immediately recognizable, but there are moments where it overwhelms the guitars and drums instead of supporting them. The interesting thing is that the quieter songs prove Gordon doesn't need that much sonic weight to make the writing work. Whenever the arrangement opens up, the melodies become stronger and the vocals become easier to connect with. I wouldn't want the band to clean everything up completely, because the rough edges are part of the charm, but a little more separation would probably make the louder sections hit even harder.

The guitars are often surprisingly detailed underneath all that distortion. There are ringing chords, rough melodic parts, twangy textures, and a few solos that add personality without becoming technical for the sake of it. The drums are similarly focused on momentum, using straightforward patterns but knowing when to speed up, pull back, or push a chorus harder. The bass is obviously the defining instrument, though, and whether I love or hate the way it sits in the mix, I can't deny that it gives the album its own character.

Gordon’s vocals are probably the emotional glue holding everything together. He can sound vulnerable, frustrated, goofy, exhausted, or completely fucking fired up without ever feeling like he is putting on a character. That natural delivery is what keeps the more polished elements of the production from making the record feel artificial. Even when the lyrics are dealing with difficult emotions, there’s still a sense of personality behind them.

That is ultimately what makes BLISS work. It feels like a real band rather than a perfectly assembled product. The songs are loud without being soulless, melodic without becoming sugary, and emotional without turning into a misery marathon. There are a few production choices I would change, and some tracks leave a bigger impression than others, but the record has enough hooks and personality to keep pulling me back.

“Scab” shows the softer side. “Not Working! Not Working!” shows the urgency. “Like Me Less” gives you the hook. “Pretty” brings the bounce. “Middle Name” gets the punk energy moving again. “Buffalo Jim” slows things down, and “Bliss” throws the whole fucking thing into the air. Those songs feel different enough from one another to create a real arc without making the album sound scattered.

What I appreciate most is that Gordon doesn't seem interested in pretending that emotional growth means suddenly having everything figured out. The record feels much more like someone learning how to live with the mess. There’s anxiety, insecurity, frustration, love, self-doubt, and the occasional flash of optimism buried throughout the songs. Even the title starts to make sense in that context. Maybe bliss isn't happiness without problems. Maybe it's finding something worth holding onto while everything else is still falling apart.

That is why the distorted production works better as part of the whole rather than as a flaw by itself. The music sounds like those emotions feel: sometimes clear, sometimes overwhelming, sometimes soft, and sometimes completely fucking blown out. Harrison Gordon have taken a relatively familiar emo and indie-punk foundation and filled it with enough personality to make it their own.

BLISS isn't perfect, and the bass can absolutely become too much, but I'd rather listen to a record with this much character than another perfectly clean emo album that sounds like it was assembled in a marketing meeting. This one has fingerprints all over it. It sounds lived in. It sounds loud. It sounds a little beat up.

Most importantly, it sounds like Gordon and the band actually give a shit about the songs. That matters more than perfect production ever will.