Kerry Charles doesn’t do love songs the usual way. “Slow Bleeding” isn’t about the butterflies; it’s about the back pain, the mild existential crisis, and how love sometimes just means holding hands while the world slowly disappoints you. And somehow, it’s gorgeous.
There’s something deliciously bittersweet about this piece. It wraps itself in satin sheets of 80s synth and leans heavily into that slightly wilted glamour—a bit like Prince if he’d traded purple leather for a dressing gown and a shoulder rub. Charles’s falsetto glides over the top like someone whispering secrets through a fogged-up bathroom mirror. It’s sensual, yes, but not in a way that tries too hard—it sighs more than it seduces.
That duality—romantic contentment versus bodily decay—seeps into every line. Written after a string of pesky health blips, and in the afterglow of a very real and recent marriage, “Slow Bleeding” avoids syrupy declarations in favour of dry humour and aching honesty. It’s a love song, but one with a limp and a raised eyebrow. Even the title says it: affection doesn’t always come with fireworks; sometimes it just quietly bleeds into the fabric of your life.
And let’s not skip over the production: the Rhodes work from Jake Sherman adds a certain melted wax warmth, while the synth solo at the end flickers like a neon sign just before midnight. It’s the kind of track that might loop on a hotel hallway speaker in a dream you’re not sure you want to wake up from—somewhere between Connan Mockasin’s sideways charm and a forgotten Steely Dan demo rediscovered in the haze.
About Kerry Charles:
Kerry Charles isn’t trying to sell you a version of himself. In fact, he seems delightfully unsure of who he is, exactly—somewhere between a lounge lizard, a philosopher, and a man who owns more polyester than is strictly necessary. But in that in-betweenness lies his brilliance. His debut LP, “I Think Of You“, hinted at his knack for building cozy, danceable melancholy, and now with “Slow Bleeding“, he’s doubling down on the feeling without sacrificing the groove. Whether he’s a character or confessor, one thing’s clear: Charles knows how to make you feel like the only two people slow-dancing in a too-bright room.
Follow Kerry Charles: