Washed Out - Purple Noon album review: Surface-level musings lack substance

Chillwave was a matter of controversy right from its inception in the late-Noughties. Critics, fans and artists all bickered over which artists should and shouldn’t be defined by this new trend for woozy, retro, down-tempo synthpop.

One fair gripe about it all, though, was that chillwave was too often preoccupied by aesthetics, coming at the expense of solid songwriting. And even though Ernest Greene — one of the genre’s best-known artists under the Washed Out moniker — has gone on to diversify his sound as the scene died away, it’s a charge that comes back to haunt him on Purple Noon.

His fourth album sounds great, for sure. Each track is doused in a sun-kissed atmosphere, redolent of Mediterranean climes and summer evenings. But beneath all the whooshing synths and tropical drums, there’s little substance. It all washes over you like a breeze.

Greene’s reverb-laden vocals are often lost, although when left unadorned, they’re a tiresome drawl. His lyrics tackle love and passion (“Can never get enough/Think I’m addicted to your love”, he sings on Paralyzed) but like the music, rarely go much deeper than surface level.