Jack Antonoff is no stranger to loss. 

After his sister’s death in 2002 and his cousin’s death in the Iraq War in 2003, his music sometimes comes from a place of sorrow, but it doesn’t always sound that way. Three years after Strange Desire, the first album from Bleachers, Antonoff is back with Gone Now, an album about what Antonoff calls “after.” More specifically, after moments of tragedy and loss of innocence.

“‘Gone Now’ is the first time I’ve written about after,” said Antonoff in an Instagram post about the album. 

The first track, Dreams of Mickey Mantle, is an upbeat, anthemic song about about dying, a common theme throughout the album. The band pairs light indie pop with the song’s darker lyrics, a contrast that only Antonoff could make work.

It makes you forget what the song is really about, which perhaps isn’t the goal, but it happens anyway. The same thing happens with the album’s first single, “Hate That You Know Me.” The electropop sound distracts from the question of whether it’s a love song or not. Regardless, you can’t help but dance along.

“Don’t Take the Money” is about the difficulties of being in a relationship, but it’s clear that there’s love in the lyrics “You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it. “It’s a song we can all relate to. It’s a song about human experience, the theme that ties the entirety of Gone Now together.

“Everybody Lost Somebody” is explicitly about loss, but the song’s mix of electronic and jazz music, and Antonoff’s vocals that border on yelling at some points distract from the sadness, even though it will always be there. 

“Goodbye” bids a retro, yet repetitive farewell to the “friends I’ve had”, the “upstairs neighbor” and “the kids downstairs”, passing faces in the “after” of lost innocence. It is here that the album’s true triumph is revealed: the continued contrast of upbeat, radio-friendly indie pop with lyrics laden with the heaviness of experience. 

Bleachers has created an album that sounds the way being alive feels. Electrifying, confusing and oftentimes tragic, Gone Now lightens the load of existence, taking only 12 tracks to relieve us from the heaviest of burdens.