RoofTop Screamers’ “Blink of an Eye” has a way of unpacking itself in your mind long after the last note fades, like finding a single, unexplainable sequin on your collar hours after leaving a particularly vivid party. It struts in with this curious collision of sounds – a pinch of power pop’s bright-eyed yearning, the jagged, insistent pulse of new wave, a defiant shimmer of glam rock that makes you want to dig out platform boots, all swirling in a distinctly psychedelic haze. It’s as if they unearthed an old map to a rebellion that was once painted in bright colours, now beautifully faded yet still humming with energy.
And Royston Langdon, his vocals steering this particular sonic vessel, sounds less like a mere guest and more like the seasoned, slightly mournful ringmaster of this beautiful unease. The track grapples with that heavy cloak: disillusionment. That familiar, almost metallic tang in the air when reality’s promises turn out to be cleverly disguised holograms.
This idea of being caught in a rigged game, where joy is a fast-fading blip and the unseen puppeteers always seem to collect their winnings – it’s disarmingly potent. There’s a palpable sense here, akin to suddenly noticing the slight tremor in a tightrope walker’s smile, that we’re all players in an elaborate performance designed to chip away at our spirit.
Life zipping past, vanishing “in an instant,” as the lyrics observe. It makes me think of those timelapse films of flowers blooming and wilting in seconds, a whole lifespan compressed into a breathtaking, poignant spectacle. Are we supposed to just watch, or somehow intervene in our own fleeting show? The song doesn’t offer platitudes, just this pulsing, insistent invitation to notice the flicker, to acknowledge the speed, to perhaps dance a little before the lights go out.
This isn’t about succumbing to the void; it’s more like a very chic, knowing glance shared across a crowded room, acknowledging the shared absurdity and urging you to grab onto whatever solid thing is nearby – even if it’s just the undeniable hook of the song itself.
So, if our moments are as ephemeral as a soap bubble, does finding the beauty in its iridescent skin just before it pops become the ultimate act of living?
