Cerca:afternoon bike ride

Running with Scissors is a cathartic heart ache and, ultimately, a therapeutic exploration of what it means to be alive—to love, to grieve, to regret, and to grow. It pulses with rawness and authenticity, sincerity and honesty, offering both solace and strength to anyone navigating their own emotional journey.

Running with Scissors is the third full-length album from Canadian trio Afternoon Bike Ride. Residing in Montreal, the group is made up of Lia (vocals, guitar, programming), David (vocals, guitar, drums, programming), and Éloi (vocals, keys, drums, programming). Since their formation in 2019, the band has released numerous projects where indie rock blends with acoustic pop, ambient field recordings, and lofi folk.

With each track on the new album, the three artists explore the rollercoaster ride of life’s most profound lessons—falling in and out of love, embracing grief, and navigating the complex spectrum of human emotion. The album feels like a series of journal entries, capturing moments of vulnerability, self-discovery, and personal growth. A lot has changed since their formation in 2019 but their hearts are still in the right place. Lead singer and songwriter Lia reflects on the bittersweet realization that life is an ongoing journey and we’ll never have all the answers, but we can still find meaning through love, meaningful connection, and the lessons that shape us. If life is one big lesson, then according to Lia, "I guess these songs are some classes I've taken."

The twelve song soundscape blends raw, emotional acoustic elements with subtle electronic layers and indie rock grunge, creating a textured blend that feels as vast and intimate as the album’s themes. It’s an immersive record that shifts perspectives, from the micro to the macro, zooming out to explore the universe and zooming in on the personal experiences that define our lives. Throughout the album, ABR explores the beauty of feeling deeply while embracing both the intensity of emotion and the struggles of finding purpose. "I'm finding my way through this world now," says Lia, "with the comfort of knowing I'll never know it all.”

Endearing Montreal-based trio Afternoon Bike Ride announce their forthcoming second album "Glossover", set to be released via Friends of Friends. Consisting of Lia Kurihara (vocals, guitar, programming), David Tanton (vocals, guitar, drums, programming), and Éloi Le Blanc-Ringuette (vocals, keys, drums, programming), Afternoon Bike Ride is a lo-fi folk trio providing a comfort zone in audio form. It"s in the name. When all three artists are together, their chemistry culminates into one organic and lush sound. Sonics that feel natural and freeing, as if fireside with a handful of microphones and instruments and toys. The band has released a series of cohesive projects where field recordings blend with ambient, acoustic, folk, and pop. A cauldron of genres they stir during each song. With precision, Afternoon Bike Ride presents a soothing sound all their own, one that continues to expand and deliver with each new release.

Bliss Point is proud to welcome NY producer Duane Island to the roster with Solar Effect, three enormous and heartfelt club excursions, combining elements of trance, italo and disco to pack as much life as possible into one release.

The title track, “Solar Effect”, twists in on itself like a trip peaking at noon, pairing squelching FM synth lines with airy piano chords to get hands in the air, feet off the ground, and heads in the clouds. “Figo Dream” is an afternoon bike ride through a lifted and euphoric dreamscape, anchored by a pulsing bass line that changes course at just the right moment. “Olio” cruises back to earth by sunset, with cheeky keys and voices from dancefloors past beckoning for another go round.

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight