Click, refresh, loading, refresh, click. The moments in thought when you realized just how disassociated you are with yourself, much less the constantly unfocused environment around you, this is the imagery that is effortlessly sprinkled throughout Their Bodies in a Fog. The innocuous translation of such important emotions could come off as pure apathy but that is just a testament to the pain and how after a while you can’t feel it anymore. You are left completely aware of the uninvited presence as well as the helplessness that accompanies the struggle with an imaginary enemy borrowing from deep, internal-eternal.
The atmospheric inclination of Arrange has grown and Their Bodies… shows an affinity for soul that is heavily alluded to in previous works. At times the album is reminiscent of a diluted mixture incorporating Her Space Holiday and Baths, but every bit of it comes off as pure and genuine, all the while a voice trembles in uncertainty as your narrator reaches to achieve the proper feeling at the proper pitch; it really is a beautifully crushing work.
Each track seems to tell a different part of a story that stems from the main characters inability to cope with let downs past and present, as your conditioned in such a passive way you start your path of neurological episodes and emotional freakouts that drain and leave you lifeless. The non-declarative “Heart//What If This Were It?” is a wordless conveyance of the complicated nature of positioning every bit of you, on the overpass, in a most damaging way. It is reckless and non-committal to ask such hypothetical questions in attempts to relieve bubbling emotion and confusion, leaving you only more confused as no such query could be responded to with true clairvoyance.
You could mill about and accept these words for what they are (or seem to be) or you could embrace the need for reassurance that you are still alive and able to feel, and also understand that in some way, shape, or form these issues apply to you. Out of the emotional overload one line exemplifies every ounce of uncertainty, “My baby follows my movements, he tells me it’ll be fine.”