(Self-released, digital)
Nothing says “I love you” like a curated selection of tunes. Words can’t match the magic power of a mixtape to sum up everything you want to say.
While writing and recording the material for her debut album, Every Song On This Playlist Is For You, Andover singer-songwriter and producer Aleda Bliss “kept finding mix CDs my teenage crushes gave me,” she told the Vermont Journal in June. Working within a playlist framework, in which she imagines her songs as chronologically ordered scenes, she delivers an astounding first outing, coproduced with Burlington composer Christopher Hawthorn.
Largely an electronic-pop album, Every Song On This Playlist Is For You assesses modern love with relatable language and invigorating production. Bliss’ songs are vital, teeming with energy.
Synths pulsate like blood pumping through arteries. Beats contract, shiver and convulse, turning the songs inside out as they grow from verse to chorus. Bliss summons ethereal harmonies in humming swarms and dripping arpeggios. At times, they support her leading melodies; at others, they counter them. The interplay of the elements is marvelous, and Bliss never misses an opportunity to embellish.
Primordially powerful opener “Any Way” leads into the sweeping, cinematic majesty of “Driving To The Coast,” whose title perfectly captures Bliss’ soaring vocals amid a patchwork of synths and beats.
“Honey (Be)” propels a single moment into a fevered banger. “Hey / How long will we lay here / Falling apart, dear / Like I did before,” she sings. A four-on-the-floor throb sweeps the track into a driving groove centering on that last word. Choral harmonies envelop Bliss as she grapples with “before.” It’s as if she’s willing herself back through time, reversing her entropy by retreating to a glittery cocoon.
“No View But You” is a standout cut. “View” is such a loaded term in the social media-dominated world. It conjures themes of attention, importance, success and self-worth. For artists, views are everything. For consumers, not seeing as much as possible means they risk falling out of the zeitgeist.
So when Bliss pledges to obscure everything but the person at the center of her universe, she defies both ends of the spectrum. She sings, “I will take off my makeup for you … Uncover love that has no view / but you / but you,” her words dropping in off-time thuds over spine-tingling synths.
Wiping off the sweat from the album’s first act, slow jams “Sweet Boy” and “Open Air Interlude” surround “Quiet Feeling,” on which the artist calls her listeners together for a snowball social. Presumably swaying under a motorized mirror ball, she recalls the unshakable self-assurance she felt with a past lover.
Culminating with the surging inquiry “Tell Me How You’re Sleeping,” Every Song On This Playlist Is For You is a record full of massive songs that probe and ponder love and the people with whom we’ve shared it. Bliss is an exceptionally talented and exciting new voice in Vermont’s music community. Press play. Now.
Every Song On This Playlist Is For You is available on major streaming services.
This article appears in Jul 17-23, 2024.


