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Rating: There is always a bit of anxiety when you buy, download, and then prepare to listen to an album for the first time. Many of us hope to find the album of our lives, just like when you're about to go on a first date. There is curiosity. There is a desire to play. There is a desire to delude oneself. Above all, there is hope to find what you don't even know you're looking for: the woman of your life, the man of your life, the album of your life. To be able to reach that thing and then stop searching, because that will be enough, just that and nothing else.
Then comes the moment: you find yourself facing that situation, that feeling you had imagined, desired. You start paying attention, you concentrate, try to understand. You listen. You like it. From then on, you start consuming it, as you're used to, you go all the way and drink all that pleasure that thing gives you. And you hope, while you drink, that it never ends. Never ends, that it always remains beautiful, like the first time, that it always makes you tremble. That deep emotion like the deep affection you have for an object, a person, always associating it with beautiful things. Maybe even with bad things that still make you feel alive and give you the chance to look at yourself from above as if leaning out the window of your house and seeing yourself passing on the street below.
Sorry for the somewhat long digression, but there are albums, like this one, that totally involve the reviewer. Certain albums that, helped by various situations in life, envelop you, brush against your soul, pass through you. Marking you.
When you can't technically explain why the piano in "Up above The Daily Hum" takes you where it decides.
When you can't technically explain why the guitar and the sampled applause in "In the Morning Magician" make you feel so inside that it almost scares you.
When you can't technically explain why "It's summertime" makes you perceive the strong smell of sand on a beach drenched by August rain.
When you can't technically explain why Wayne Coyne's voice sounds like that of your favorite uncle, a distant parent, a close friend.
When you can't technically explain why the lyrics of "Do you realize" go like this:
Do You Realize - that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize - we're floating in space -
Do You Realize - that happiness makes you cry
Do You Realize - that everyone you know someday will die
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