Dream Talkin' 7" (Father Daughter, 2010)
For: The Supremes, Beach Fossils, Cass McCombs
Byline: Dear winter: Piss off.
Question: Do the seasons dictate the music or is it the other way around? This week, Denver hit its first extended stretch of 90 degree weather, and also, California's Father Daughter label sent over this Brooklyn band's debut 7" record for us to have a listen-see. Coincidence? Probably. But as soon as I threw this on ol' lady iPod and told her to jam, I started sweating. But it was a nice sweat... nothing unbearable—almost cool and shady. Inside-and-out warmth, but not scorching to the touch. Flip flops, straw hats, sunglasses, iced tea, the whole deal... closing your eyes, swaying with this band's light breeze and finding yourself 'neath the palm fronds is just about the easiest thing to do in the entire boiling-hot planet. For a band that sounds lo-fi, Dream Talkin' doesn't sound very lo-fi at all. The electric guitar shimmers like salmon in the lake with whispers of tremolo, the bass is deep and hollow, and the drums are just there... nothing super special, but nothing on this record really is, and that's what makes it so super special. Three simple songs, a lightly nostalgic eye for Motown days, and hummable tunes that necessitate the frequent use of your playback device's repeat function. I prefer the manual approach, personally: Play, sip, flip, repeat. Play, sip, flip, repeat. Yeahhh.... it's summer alright.