Their darkness pairs perfectly. Wise sings of shame, desperation and loss, his weightless voice winding up and down in gospel spirals. "I'm fine with you being a liar," he coos to an imaginary lover on "four ethers," the EP's peak emotional moment. "I'm fine with you being a killer. I'm fine with you being suicidal—no, that shit don't bother me none." Where Wise draws our eyes to a dark side of humanity, Krlic's sound design suggests a similar kind of abyss, one that's impossible to look away from. Wise is classically trained, and "four ethers" foregrounds his orchestral inclinations. The violins, French horns and timpani evoke operatic levels of drama, especially with Krlic's giant noise crescendos that punctuate the story.
blisters unites the powers of spirituality and sex. Wise grew up in a God-fearing family, regularly attending a Pentecostal church, and gospel forms the backbone of this record. But it also oozes sex, not just because of suggestive lyrics but because of Wise's voice, which seems to shake and sweat with carnal desire. He makes spirituality and sex feel mutually reenforcing, rather than contradictory (it's been suggested that blisters posits sex as an act of faith). The title track in particular captures that feeling, with celestial harps and a deep, terrestrial bass that sneaks up quietly. It's an unusual pairing, much like Wise and Krlic, and it forms the tension behind a remarkably evocative record.