serpentwithfeet’s “blisters” Is Sweeping Electronic Gospel

In almost every church fresco or statuary detail, you’ll find an angel playing a harp. It’s a purposeful symbol to say that both the instrument and its sound have some divine tenor, that the pluck of a string attends the movement of history. As such, when you hear a harp’s hum, it’s hard to divorce it from the context. If out of place, it can sound overly dramatic or hammed up. But what happens when you lean into the divinity while defining spirituality on your own terms? In “blisters,” from Josiah Wise’s debut EP as serpentwithfeet, the artist is surrounded by the sound of muted harps as he reckons with trauma and forgiveness. “blisters” feels like its own gospel.

In “blisters,” atmospheric string arrangements swirl with Wise’s singing, which is light and yet contains multitudes. Even when Wise is alone with his voice, it has the effect of a chorus. He sings about what is presumably a faltering relationship, but the lyrics and sounds tell a story that feels much larger. Crowds of hands clapping and electronic gurgles give weight to lines like, “my lips the only source of water for miles.” Wise has said his work explores “cultural trauma, cultural mourning, African American mourning,” meaning that “blisters” is a perfect example of music that can exist at the liminal space between the personal and the historical. In “blisters,” creation myths and downright apocalypse—an entire mythical cycle—can be contained in the intimate pain of a breakup.

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