As this ep opens into the swirling soundscape and haunting indie-blues vibes of Obsidian Hills, if Del’s voice doesn’t immediately make you utter out loud “What The Flip?” or at least make the hairs on the back of your neck break out into some sort of strange tribal dance, then I suspect that music isn’t going to really be your thing.
It’s a strange and seductive voice, not what you would call textbook but in defence, I just have to mention names like Cave, Waits and Cohen and any detractors will crumble quicker than Amber Heard’s lawyers cross-examining an expert witness.
And the music which carries it is just as hard to nail down and just as difficult to ignore. In Dreams is built on cascades of circular rhythms and ethereal, otherworldly sounds not to mention a trumpet which seems to occasionally crawl and meander around the vocal line. And to end, the title track is a Tex-Mex, garage rock workout which is both not like the rest of the album and also its perfect conclusion.
