Washed Out - Within And Without (LP)

Chillwave became a punchline pretty quickly, but Within and Without still feels like the genre’s keeper of the flame. Released in July 2011 on Sub Pop in the US and Weird World internationally, Washed Out’s first full‑length found Ernest Greene stepping out of the bedroom and into a proper studio setting, and it shows. He teamed with Atlanta producer Ben H. Allen, who had credits with Animal Collective and Deerhunter, and the result is a record that keeps the haze but sharpens the silhouette. The textures swell and breathe, the kick drums feel more certain, and the vocals sit just a touch closer without losing that humid blur that made Life of Leisure such a whispered sensation.

Eyes Be Closed opens like dawn through a thin curtain, all bell‑tone synths and patient pulse. It is a smart lead single, an invitation to sink in rather than a demand for attention. Amor Fati pushes a little harder, carried by a skipping rhythm and a melody that climbs in gentle steps. There is a reason it became a fan favourite, the kind of track that carries you through a tram ride on a bright winter morning. You and I brings in Caroline Polachek of Chairlift on guest vocals, a lovely brush of human grain that cuts through the mist. The way her voice twines with Greene’s makes the song feel like a quiet conversation on the edge of sleep. Deeper cuts like Soft and Far Away keep the temperature low but the movement steady, and A Dedication closes the set with a slow drift that feels earned rather than indulgent.

Greene has always worked with memory, but Within and Without swaps the sepia filter for something clearer. You can still hear the salt and sunscreen of 2009, yet the songs are sturdier. Ben H. Allen’s touch is crucial here, guiding the low end so it carries rather than muddies. Synths shimmer rather than smear, and the percussion feels like a heartbeat rather than a loop someone forgot to mute. It is the difference between a diary entry and a letter you are willing to share.

Back in 2011 the chillwave tag was everywhere, but this album got more than scene chatter. It earned warm reviews from places that mattered, and it connected with listeners who wanted something reflective but not inert. That balance is tougher than it sounds. Plenty of peers chased the fog and forgot the hooks. Greene never does. His melodies are modest, sure, but they stick. You catch yourself humming Amor Fati in the fruit aisle. You think about Eyes Be Closed while packing for a weekend down the coast.

On vinyl the record really finds its body. The bass curls around the room, the synth pads open up, and those small percussive flutters feel tactile. If you are crate digging for Washed Out vinyl, this is the one that tells you exactly why the project mattered. The Within and Without vinyl pressing is also the easiest path if you are building a shelf for that early 2010s sweet spot alongside Toro y Moi and Neon Indian. For anyone in Australia, plenty of shops keep it in stock, and a Melbourne record store on a Saturday arvo is frankly the right setting to decide you need it. If you prefer to buy Washed Out records online, you will find copies floating around with little trouble. Among Washed Out albums on vinyl, it is the essential spine, the record that turns a micro‑genre into a mood you can actually live with. And for those browsing vinyl records Australia wide, this one pairs neatly with a cup of tea and a window cracked open to the breeze.

What I love most is how unhurried it is. Greene trusts the listener. He lets repetition do the work, he layers detail without crowding the frame, and he keeps sentiment close without tipping into schmaltz. The title feels apt too, an album that lives within memory and without fuss. More than a scene piece, Within and Without is a quietly confident debut from an artist who understood his palette and, with the right collaborator in Ben H. Allen, learned how to paint bigger without losing the blur. It still sounds like a place, half‑remembered but vivid, and that is why it keeps finding new ears each winter.