There is a moment, during the appreciation of a spastic, gestural oil painting, when the vivid strokes cascade down over the observer in waves; a slow drown of color. On their debut LP, The Spring Tide, Indiana quartet Broken Light achieve nothing less than a total deluge of muted, smothering shimmer, puddling at the feet. The temptation to gaze shoeward is overwhelming, but any who give in will notice their toes tapping to the beat; Broken Light is both gazey and pop – mournful and joyous. These conflicting feelings are felt throughout the record, from the self-contained contrast in genres, to the way the melodic droning lyrics and guitars float on an uncharacteristically groovy rhythm section, and within the lyrics themselves, where flood is constantly taunted by the promise of regrowth. Broken Light is just that: a personal apocalypse, mixing pigments with genesis. Welcome to the dawn of nothing.