In the chaos, Bladee pauses to take stock of things with impressive clarity, given his usual tendency to abstract and arrive at ideas from oblique angles. He dropped his first solo tape, Glue, just a decade or so ago when he was known as Yung Lean's sidekick. Now in his 30s, he is experiencing something of a mid-career crisis. “I got so old, I was ashamed to be here, you know?” the introduction goes. He's aware of his massive influence on a new generation of Internet musicians, but he also feels more fucked up and meaner than he was as a fresh-faced 18-year-old. The wonderfully bleak “Flatline” conveys Bladee's sadness at letting someone down—possibly himself?—with some of his most expressive vocals ever, rippling between low murmurs and weak cries. as he repeats how he chokes on “dark feelings,” his tone reflects frustration by slowly falling in pitch.
Because as turbulent as this album is, it's also sweetly silly in classic Bladee fashion. “Lows Partly” is strangely happy, its synth flourishes juxtaposed wildly with the depressing lyrics lurking beneath. “Burn the disco, hang the fucking DJ,” Bladee tells himself, sounding happy. Some lyrics are reminiscent of 2021's unusual aphorisms and cute riddles Fool time. He talks about “violently abusing weed” and accidentally buying 1,000 Smurf toys while browsing eBay for shrooms. He despises people who watch YouTube shorts and says he paints better than Rembrandt. Lines that might feel dead in print electrify the ear through Bladee's nimble vocals, spasmodic with odd mouth noises and pitch shifts, like how he randomly chirps “I'm back!” like coming home from work in the twilight haze of 'Flexing & Finessing'.
While Cold Visions it may not be his swan song, there is certainly a sense that a chapter is closing. The album is haunted by ghosts from Bladee's past. almost every song makes some kind of allusion to a previous release. He names track titles like “Everlasting Flames” and “Redlight Moments.” The previously established lore for the mystical high school Drain Gang is further developed on the growl “Don't Wanna Hang Out.” Old audio logos are re-implemented, such as the “Blade” tag from the 1998 film Blade and the “deep sadness” phenomenon of Sad Boys was removed from Street Fighter IV. Veteran drainers comb through this album in group chats, creating a master doc to capture every interjection and reference.
One minute, Bladee wonders if his fans understand him (“Every time I check the comments I'm like, 'Do they even deserve me?'”). Later, he doubts whether he has achieved anything to warrant worship: “The vision is clear, but I'm nowhere near it.” It sounds like he has collected his past lives and sonic memorabilia together for himself as well as the fans. He looks at everything, questions what his musical achievements mean. There is no clear answer. Bladee has not discovered true happiness or attained enlightenment. By the end of the album, he sounds exhausted yet ecstatic, like he's losing a lot of weight. The music swells and shimmers. “I'm like you, I live and learn,” he sings, dissolving into the noise.
