I hate to use the word dream pop, even though nearly everything I listened to in my twenties fit under that rubric. It's a silly term that reduces the discussion of genuinely blissful and beautiful music into talk that feels a bit precious. That said, there is music that transports you as a listener. The new one from My Bus, Our Life in the Desert, is that kind of record. The release sees Joe Cassidy (Butterfly Child) and Gary McKendry (Papa Sprain) join forces only to drift off into another realm. The music here on this album, out on Friday via Onomatopoeia, is the sound from a dream.
These two players grew up in Belfast and reconnected in recent years to conjure up this stuff and nearly everything here transfixes. "Weekend Hearts" is stark and glacial, the kind of thing Eno'd be doing if he still made vocal albums, while the superb "Ballerina" rides in on a cool, pulsing hook before it erupts into something joyous. The vibe is vaguely like something off of a New Order album from the Eighties. A similar effect is heard later thanks to the hiccuping beat that anchors "Tomorrow Will Be Ours", one of the other highlights here, even as the loping "Elvis and Me" ventures nearly into Britpop territory. Similarly, "She Was Never There" whirs and churns in a marvelous fashion, Cassidy and McKendry revealing how easily they can make the electronic textures here things of extraordinary warmth.
For all the portions of Our Life in the Desert which should feel familiar to anyone who's heard a Butterfly Child or Papa Sprain release, there are riskier passages where the two players exhibit the kind of taste for brave exploration that characterized a few Radiohead albums near the turn of this century. "The Sun Will Come" is nearly ambient, the patterns here those of a Non side, in some ways, while the expertly-titled "Goose Pimples Forever" is languid bliss. On this one, and others, Joe Cassidy seems to be singing more directly than he did on some Butterfly Child releases, even as the music underneath his vocals is more abstract (in spots), and expansive.
The cumulative sonic effect of Our Life in the Desert is that of a dream, I admit, so maybe I should -- circling back now -- revisit the term dream pop. I mean, what the hell else can I call this? This is a timeless and pristine record, and fans of these two musicians, and of Boo Radleys, Seafeel, and Moose should love this as much as I do.
Our Life in the Desert is out on Friday via Onomatopoeia
More details on My Bus via the band's official Facebook page
[Photo: Joe Cassidy / My Bus]