bloody/bath are feverish, infectious and bewitching. Their cutting guitar lines and catchy melodies might bring anthemic indie rock to the forefront, but lying in the shadows of their sonics is a brooding anguish. Kailan Price’s lyrics are displayed honestly, like a body sliced open for heart-surgery. They tell a bleak story of his personal battle with crippling depression and anxiety; a story of someone lost in their own head, imprisoned in a waking experience of sleep paralysis.
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