So. Suuns. I read this week of the Montréal slo-fi outfit having been promoted to the lofty descriptive pedestal of psych stalwarts. I wasn’t sure they’d ascended so high, even after the monumental successes of the wickedly disparate Zeroes QC début, but whatever. They’re back, and that’s indubitably something worth rejoicing in as the sky’s contrast intensifies, turns black, and the sun fucks off. It’s spent the entirety of Friday cloaked in greyish nothingness anyways. For a November outing though, Edie’s Dream is a remarkably brilliant affair in the adjective’s every sense. A sneaky peek into sophomore effort Images Du Futur and what seems as though it may yet prove to be a somewhat more proggy direction for the four-piece, it’s a comparatively minimal slump that’s all clipped rhythms, plucky power bass input, and slouchy lyrics of “visions” unchanged over years; of realities that come doused in a bewildering crust of surreality. It’s soft, and yet incisive all at once – like that dreamy nightmare that never ceases to awaken in which you fall to the elevation at which your nose is about an inch off a most mephitic Tarmac. It’s disorientating in its lack of thrust and break, but then as with all they’ve ever done it’s a highly idiosyncratic piece of addictive resistance nonetheless.
DOWNLOAD: Suuns, Edie’s Dream.