Bx’s “Refraction (Reflection)” hits like a wave—unpredictable, all-consuming. The GlowGrunge track doesn’t just play; it surges through you. Imagine the feeling of standing alone on a stormy beach, the wind screaming in your ears, and the waves crashing around you. That’s the energy Bx brings. The song is loud, it’s raw, and it’s honest. But it’s also reflective, exploring what it means to break apart and come back together, over and over again.
The lyrics start heavy: “I know that this can’t be a part of me / And now we’re sat here in dark.” There’s no build-up, no warm welcome—just a blunt realization that something’s wrong and needs to change. You know that feeling? Like a ghost in your chest, some part of you that you’ve outgrown but can’t seem to shake. Bx captures that exact moment of staring into your own reflection, searching for answers you’re scared to face. It’s real. And it’s jarring.
Musically, it’s got that lush, shoegaze reverb mixed with grungy fuzz. It reminds me of My Bloody Valentine in its dreamy, washed-out guitars, but then suddenly—bam—it throws you into a distorted Nirvana-esque grunge pit. Yet it never sticks to one vibe. One second, it feels almost ethereal; the next, you’re getting pulled into gritty, chaotic soundscapes. It’s like getting stuck in an undertow and losing track of which way is up. A sonic high and low all at once.
The Hook and the Heartbeat
The chorus. Man, the chorus: “Where were you / When we were / Lost in refraction.” I’ve been there, wondering who’s around when everything feels blurry, unclear. The hook feels like a cry for help and a statement of independence all at once—there’s longing, but also defiance. The melody wraps around you like a wave pulling you under, and the vocals? They’re raw, sometimes buried under the layers of guitar and drums, but always pushing to be heard. That’s what makes it so gripping. Bx doesn’t just want to make noise—they want you to feel it.
In the verses, there’s this constant dance between introspection and release. You can almost see the protagonist wrestling with their own mind. I’ve had those moments myself, alone at 3 AM, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of every thought crashing down like a tide I can’t swim against. The track speaks to that inner struggle, the desperate need to change, to break away from something that’s holding you back. And sometimes, you don’t know how to do it except to scream into the void.
Breaking Away to Become Whole
What I love about “Refraction (Reflection)” is how it explores this idea of the “splitting of light.” That moment where you break apart to find something real underneath. It’s messy, but that’s the point. The guitars shimmer like broken glass, reflecting bits of light from all angles. It’s heavy without losing its sense of melody, chaotic but still focused. Bx plays with the space between brightness and darkness, finding beauty in the split.
The lines “And I know things are gonna change / Cause they have to” stand out to me. That acceptance, even when it’s painful. It’s like watching a storm build, knowing you can’t stop it, but that things might be clearer on the other side. And the way the song crescendos, with layers upon layers of sound, it’s like you’re riding that storm all the way through. It’s cathartic. Sometimes, it feels like the music is falling apart, but in the best way possible—because sometimes, you need to break down to build back up.
Bx’s GlowGrunge Revival
Bx’s whole sound feels like a new take on old emotions. They don’t shy away from that 90s influence, but they twist it into something that feels entirely fresh, a style that they call GlowGrunge. And it works. This idea of light and darkness fighting for space within the same song, within the same person, is powerful. Freeman’s self-taught musicianship makes this even more impressive. The sound doesn’t feel “perfect,” and that’s exactly what makes it so compelling. It’s like the band is just laying it all out there, raw and real.
There’s something freeing about the way “Refraction (Reflection)” comes together. The explosive drums. The relentless bass. Those shimmering, screaming guitars. It’s not music that’s been perfectly polished; it’s more like a beautiful mess—one that mirrors what it feels like to wrestle with your own mind and come out the other side stronger for it.
Final Thoughts
“Refraction (Reflection)” feels like a battle cry and a confession. It’s for those moments when you need to feel the weight of the world, but also know that it won’t last forever. For me, it’s the kind of song I’d put on when I need to let something go, scream it out, and make peace with whatever’s next. A storm worth getting lost in, because sometimes, you come out on the other side finding that clarity is hidden in the chaos. Play it loud. Let it consume you. Find your own reflection in the noise.
