Washed Out - Purple Noon (LP)

Ernest Greene has spent more than a decade perfecting the art of the soft-focus daydream, and Purple Noon is the sunniest of the lot. Released in August 2020 on Sub Pop, it marks a return to sleek, romantic songwriting after the sample-spattered fun house of Mister Mellow. It is the fourth Washed Out album and it leans into a Mediterranean glow that suits him. The title nods to the 1960 film Purple Noon, and the music follows that mood, all seaside shimmer and late arvo heat, where everything moves a little slower and feelings feel a touch larger.

Greene produced the record himself and brought back longtime collaborator Ben H. Allen to mix it, which matters because the album sounds impossibly polished without losing that Washed Out blur. Synths glide rather than thump, vocals arrive like a tide under neon, and the drums are gently insistent. You can trace the line from the dreamlike haze of Life of Leisure, the EP that helped define chillwave, to the bigger canvases of Within and Without and Paracosm, then on to this suave, widescreen take. It is familiar, yet it feels refreshed, like a favourite beach at first light.

The run of singles sets the tone. Time to Walk Away is a classic Washed Out scene setter, a bittersweet breakup framed by glassy keys and a beat that suggests movement even while your feet stay in the sand. Too Late arrived in the early months of lockdown with a crowdsourced video stitched from fan-submitted travel clips, and that communal longing feeds back into the song’s ache. Paralyzed goes heavier on the drama, its hook gasping for air as synths bloom around it. On headphones, the layers feel hand placed, little countermelodies slipping in and out like swimmers through a reef.

What I love most is the record’s sense of physical space. Purple Noon works like a short holiday; each track is a cove with its own water colour. Face Up gives you twilit sparkle and a quiet, resigned lift in the chorus. Leave You Behind pulls back to something more intimate, the vocal sitting closer, the arrangement prizing air as much as notes. Game of Chance and Haunt stretch the melancholy, but never let it go maudlin. Even when the lyrics sink into doubt, the music is buoyant, with soft pads and rippling guitars carrying the mood forward.

Greene has always been savvy about texture, and here he steers clear of nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. The synth patches have that flash of 80s romance, sure, but there is a modern clarity that keeps things crisp. You can tell he is thinking like a producer as much as a songwriter, building rooms for the voice to inhabit rather than splashing it across the front. Ben H. Allen’s mix is the final polish, giving the low end a gentle sway and keeping the top end glassy but not brittle.

If you came in through Feel It All Around, the song that later became the Portlandia theme, this will feel like a grown-up cousin. The vibes are blissed, though the edges are tidier. Some critics wished for more risk, but that undersells how hard it is to make music this streamlined feel alive. The melodies are sticky, the pacing patient, and the mood consistent without turning to wallpaper. Put it on while the house cools after a hot day and you will get it.

On vinyl, these songs really breathe. The Sub Pop pressing brings out the low-slung thump in Time to Walk Away and gives the ambient swells on Haunt a smooth arc. If you are flipping through a Melbourne record store and you spot Purple Noon vinyl, do yourself a favour and take it home. It also sits neatly with earlier Washed Out albums on vinyl, a nice little run of golden-hour records that make a lounge room feel like the Aegean. And if you prefer to buy Washed Out records online, the demand for Washed Out vinyl has stayed steady, which says plenty about how these tracks have settled into people’s lives. For those hunting in the broader world of vinyl records Australia has to offer, this is one of those modern dream-pop essentials that rewards proper speakers, a quiet room, and time to exhale.