REVIEW: Bernice - Puff EP

Kelly Kirwan

Bernice plays electric, soulful grooves that unfold like the tendrils of an ivy plant, spreading serpentine across the surrounding landscape in a downright hypnotic germination. The six-piece band hails from Toronto, their moniker serving as a proverbial Russian nesting doll, packing in all the facets of experimental pop each bandmate brings to the table. Spearheaded by Robin Dann, the group’s most recent release, Puff, is a deep dive into curious and unpredictable arrangements, which gleam with rhythm & blues influences and offer garnishes of synth to maintain a sense of the avant-garde. Bernice's songs are cerebral and immersive, grown in the maze of the mind where imagination and philosophical musings mingle and evolve in tandem.

Their single, "St. Lucia," is paired with an animated video that features richly-colored sketches against a black canvas. A thumping percussion and undulating bass line reverberate deeply across the track, as Dann sings, “Hey, your name is mine / To feel,” her voice climbing in decibels as she reaches the final word, while simultaneously possessing the airy quality of a whisper. The video follows the sketches of women as they shift between purple and blue hues, diving into pools of water and then trying to hold the liquid between cupped hands. The song is mesmerizing, as is the animation, which focuses on the women in Dann’s family that came before her. Between generations they would pass down traits and names, silent links ingrained in our DNA, but without ever truly knowing the person that passed them on. It’s a phenomenon that Dann plays with in a mesmerizing fashion. 

Then there’s "David," whose lyrics could crack even a stone-cold heart. The song is slower burn, with warbled synths wobbling across the surface. “David / Sedated / Lying on the floor … Can’t lift his eyes anymore,” Dann sings, painting a picture of a protagonist riddled with the lethargy of defeat and depression. Her vocals are layered with a second satiny, songbird pitch, and their pairing feels both earnest and heartbreaking. It’s a beautiful, gut-wrenchingly subdued ballad. “Everything feels awfully empty for David … He wasn’t ready back then / Just give him something to believe in…” Dann continues, her voice wispy and slightly strained over the words. The song plays out like a glass fixture wobbling on the edge, crystalline and on the cusp of shattering into a million glittering pieces.

Puff is gem of an EP, a whirlwind of thought-provoking themes and funk-laden melodies. I highly recommend listening for yourself.