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Rarely Do I Dream

Rarely Do I Dream in Bloomington, MN
Current price: $13.99
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Size: CD
After retiring
Youth Lagoon
in 2016, project spearhead
Trevor Powers
released a pair of more experimental albums under his own name that were spacious affairs playing with layered electronics, samples, and simple beats. He resurrected
, however, in 2023, for the more pastoral, piano-based
Heaven Is a Junkyard
. Arriving two years later, his fifth
LP wasn't nearly so long in the making. Inspired by finding home movies in late 2023 of his childhood in the late '80s and early '90s,
Rarely Do I Dream
incorporates elements of all prior iterations of
Powers
, restoring a lusher, full-band palette bedded in synthesizers and fuzz (
has revealed that it was his first time writing primarily on guitar instead of piano), but also incorporating svelter moments and plenty of tape audio from those home movies. It begins with "Neighborhood Scene," a tribute to his Idaho homies that features nearly as much taped dialogue as new lead vocals about friends, families, and "every angel and devil out marchin' on the lawn." It's all underscored by dancy grooves, a wistful melodicism, and a depth of atmosphere suited for dreams or, in
' case, memories. Several other tracks follow a similar design, with some exceptions taking the form of the clubbier "Speed Freak," with its blurting synth bass, the shoegaze-y "Perfect World"; the at once orchestral and tinkling "Lucy Takes a Picture," with its trip-hop-like rhythms; and the piano-based "My Beautiful Girl," which features a memorably tender, brittle delivery and lilting chorus. He also introduces a slinky, noir-like pop on "Saturday Cowboy Matinee," which does include taped voices and cassette clatter. The 12-song set ends with the dialogue-heavy "Home Movies (1989-1993)," which, like much of the rest of the album, is full of affection. If there's a knock on
(and it's a light rap), it's that
sometimes seems like an album for an audience of one, like a personal collage of photographs and cards on a pinboard behind the laptop monitor in the den. ~ Marcy Donelson
Youth Lagoon
in 2016, project spearhead
Trevor Powers
released a pair of more experimental albums under his own name that were spacious affairs playing with layered electronics, samples, and simple beats. He resurrected
, however, in 2023, for the more pastoral, piano-based
Heaven Is a Junkyard
. Arriving two years later, his fifth
LP wasn't nearly so long in the making. Inspired by finding home movies in late 2023 of his childhood in the late '80s and early '90s,
Rarely Do I Dream
incorporates elements of all prior iterations of
Powers
, restoring a lusher, full-band palette bedded in synthesizers and fuzz (
has revealed that it was his first time writing primarily on guitar instead of piano), but also incorporating svelter moments and plenty of tape audio from those home movies. It begins with "Neighborhood Scene," a tribute to his Idaho homies that features nearly as much taped dialogue as new lead vocals about friends, families, and "every angel and devil out marchin' on the lawn." It's all underscored by dancy grooves, a wistful melodicism, and a depth of atmosphere suited for dreams or, in
' case, memories. Several other tracks follow a similar design, with some exceptions taking the form of the clubbier "Speed Freak," with its blurting synth bass, the shoegaze-y "Perfect World"; the at once orchestral and tinkling "Lucy Takes a Picture," with its trip-hop-like rhythms; and the piano-based "My Beautiful Girl," which features a memorably tender, brittle delivery and lilting chorus. He also introduces a slinky, noir-like pop on "Saturday Cowboy Matinee," which does include taped voices and cassette clatter. The 12-song set ends with the dialogue-heavy "Home Movies (1989-1993)," which, like much of the rest of the album, is full of affection. If there's a knock on
(and it's a light rap), it's that
sometimes seems like an album for an audience of one, like a personal collage of photographs and cards on a pinboard behind the laptop monitor in the den. ~ Marcy Donelson