Lily Bloom takes control on ‘Spirits’

Spirits, the debut full-length from Columbus singer and songwriter Lily Bloom, developed leisurely, with some of its earliest songs surfacing as far back as 2018. 

“I’m a slow writer, for sure, and I’m a bit of a perfectionist, especially when it comes to certain aspects of the recording,” said Bloom, who will join her band for a record release show at Ace of Cups on Sunday, Nov. 30, supported by opener Straw & the Scarecrow. 

Owing in part to this patience, Bloom said the meanings behind a number of the songs have continued to deepen and expand, pointing as one example to “Ghost,” which emerged nearly seven years ago as a more straightforward breakup tune but has come to represent for the musician the imprints left behind by those who have made their mark and then moved on.

“Losing my college boyfriend was obviously a very tough thing for me, and that process of breaking up, of losing him, it felt like grieving in a sense,” said Bloom, whose expanding vision for the song grew to include a cinematic guest verse from Columbus rapper Dom Deshawn. “And then I felt that with other relationships, and with friendships, too, thinking about other people who had been in my life and then weren’t anymore. And I think in that way the song has taken on new life for me. And it’s not always a big, dramatic thing, but people come in and out of your life sometimes, and that’s something I’ve always held onto and struggled to reconcile.”

At its core, Spirits is an overwhelmingly dark, moody record, its midnight vibe evident from even a quick glance at the tracklisting (“Dark Angel,” “Come on Devil,” “Edgar Allan Poe”). Bloom traced this to a combination of factors ranging from her personal tastes – “Even as a kid … I always liked dark, sad music,” she said – to the reality that in the writing she often found herself untangling the various anxieties that have long knotted inside of her. Witness the piano laced “Come on Devil,” a simmering, sultry lounge tune with lyrics that evoke the feel of experiencing a panic attack. “I sense the darkness in your lungs,” Bloom sings.

“I think a lot of my mind lives in that darker space and being able to write and create something out of that is really helpful for me,” Bloom said. “I think a lot of people like sad music, and it’s because you can really let yourself feel and sink into something in a way I don’t do as much with happy music or lighter things. … And I’ve tried to write happy songs before. I literally tried to write one for my partner once, and I was like, I love him so much and I’m in a great, happy relationship. And when I tried to write him a song, I just couldn’t do it. And I think it’s because I find my greatest inspiration when I’m feeling sad or discouraged or anxious. It’s about harnessing that energy and putting it into something constructive.”

The sense of order Bloom uncovers in the act of creation echoes in her carefully composed songs, which take these conflicted, high-tension emotions and smooths out the edges, capturing their underlying energy in a series of stately compositions that have a way of naturally lowering a listener’s blood pressure. Bloom said the chaos informing her words is often reflected in the first draft, the musician describing the pages filling her journal in the same manner that police might detail the uncovered writings of a serial killer. 

“My notebook makes me look like a crazy person, because I have so many doodles and lists and half-written lyrics where it looks very nonsensical from the outside,” said the musician, who in translating these ideas to either the piano or the harp can begin to better organize these thoughts. “I think it gives me a better sense of control. And when I’m struggling with bad periods of anxiety or depression or whatever, I think the underlying feeling is that I have no control over anything. ‘Come on Devil’ is really a conversation with my anxiety, my obsessive thoughts, and the negative train circles of bad things that I’m thinking about. And I think being able to write and finish a song like that gives me a sense of power, at least in that moment.”

The shadows inherent throughout the record are brought into greater relief by the way the album eventually bends toward the light, closing with a pair of tracks that either walk a fragile line between an awareness of harsh current realities and the hope for better days to come (“Fire Like,” given an assist by eternally buoyant Columbus rapper Joey Aich) or step full on into the sun (the album-ending “Nothing But Light”). It’s a transformation abetted by community and highlighted by the presence of the musicians who make up Bloom’s band, as well as the litany of guests who turn up in supporting roles, including Columbus duo Year of the Buffalo and a trio of local rappers (Deshawn, Aich, and the irrepressible Ebri Yahloe, each of whom delivers a verse that plays as an extension of their excellent recent solo work).

“I’m surrounded by so many talented musicians and writers, and it’s humbling to be able to bring those people into a studio to help bring something you wrote to life,” said Bloom, who invited Aich to collaborate on “Fire Like,” a song she described as being rooted in “how the world is really fucked up right now,” because she didn’t want it to read as entirely hopeless. “I can get bogged down in the darkness and in feeling all of the bad things, and Joey’s optimism is really incredible, and it’s important in times like these. … I needed that acknowledgement that there is hope and there is beauty and there is goodness, and that it’s something we can hold onto and hopefully proliferate.”