'I want you to move to California for yourself, I want you to find
whatever your heart needs, I want you to move to California for
yourself, but not for me'. - Delta Spirit
Wanderlust. The desire to embark on, to embrace the unknown, to
let unsolved irritation, frustration or only pending business lie
still for a while, recharge one's batteries, then emerge with
reclaimed clarity, verve and balance of mind. In a sense, it's
escapism - you move apart from what chains you, what weights you
down, what weights upon you, and for a brief moment you feel loosed,
unburdened, alive. You can
draw on this moment, revisit, relive it whenever you need to. You hold
onto this moment, this memory of a maybe long gone journey, you
recall it, venture to live through it once more, with nostalgia,
melancholia, but also with excitement, curiosity and a certain thirst
for adventure, the instrusive yet decent wish for diversion, for
undertaking a new journey, for indulging in refreshing and
exhilarating, in new impressions and experiences yet again.
Setting out for a journey doesn't
necessarily mean though to depart. It's often mental journeys that
tickle one's senses, make for an even more intense, lasting imprint
and impact on mind and soul. It therefore is an emotional and
incisive stamp that embodies and evokes memories once made, ensures
they linger on softly, awaken now and then by acquainted smells,
sights and sounds, whereas sparkling, enthralling incentives invite
to discover, perceive explicitly and herald a journey into the
unknown. From then on you roam, reach different, exoctic and
fascinating places which seem to have waited for you to explore even
their hindmost corner, for you to advance audaciously into them. It
shows, you don't have to move, but to indulge, to open up to mental
roaming, to be responsive to personal, exhaustive pictures painted,
to be responsive to sentimental colored sceneries, to be responsive
to dreamy, distant echos, at last to let the venturous appeal of the
new within be stimulated, let it grow stronger and inspire the desire
to wander on vague ground.
With California Dreams The Wild YoungHearts (formerly known as Streetcar Rendezvous) call on the listener to
come along on their invigorating, thrilling journey, incite wandering
as their music comes in like a fresh breeze that swipes your skin
lightly and leaves a brisk feel, which makes you shiver for
excitement, reminiscent of the still concrete seemingly cold breath
and on account of the lucidity given for a short period of time: it's
an acute moment, briming over with new details, yet also allowing to
silence preceding sorrows. You are captured in that very moment, are
deeply involved, when the wind storms boldly and intends for the
former unease to expire, to vanish into thin air. At that time the
journey has already been initiated - and in the case of the
LA-based foursome a colourful, dreamful still dynamic tonal landscape
is lying ahead. One that is compelling yet doesn't force anything,
one that entertains instead of challenging, lecturing the listener.
Light-hearted lyrics, a catchy and buoyant sound - this is how
'Spend The Night', the album's first single, comes upon the audience.
Rough and imbuing vocals tell of an imponderable physical appeal, the
thereof subsequent, almost desperate compulsion to approach the
object of desire, to be close to the one person the song's persona is
drawn to. Spirited drum beats, exciting and tense riffage resound
before the chorus - a flattering, also frentic, still resolute
request to spend the night in the persona's company - sets in, which
is determined by a melodic and breezy guitar backing. 'So enough with
the dancing, let's get to romancing, baby' - an eventful, lively
guitar arrangement serves as a prelude, when pungent, energetic
riffage and rhythmic drum beats herald in the cheecky chorus for a
last time, but with a lasting effect on the listener. What a raving
compositional concept, what pace from the very beginning ...
Same topic but different. Not out of appeal and affection but out
of monotony and unrest, discontent within his relationship, the
persona of 'Supermodel' longs for something adventurous, something
bracing, and if it's only
a love affair. The urgent yearning for a fresh start with someone
else is convincicly recorded in the fiercely, unsteadily fluttering
instrumental intro of the composition: blurry and insistent riffage
create a concrete tonal tension, an edged and jumpy instrumental
vibrancy and reveal the weak points of the relationship, its
downfall. A resolution though is fast at hand and firmly stated as
bold, demanding and severely clangorous vocals utter: 'First things
first, I wanna let you know, baby, I'm going home to fuck a
supermodel' - the instrumentation expands, ponderous drum beats rise,
heavily flaring and oscilating riffage rings. When dimly echoing
backing vocals are added, the message of the song couldn't be more
apparent: the querulous, bitter lover has put his previous
relationship behind, is sick of the games and want to be left alone
for good. It's a blunt and daring remark, one that certainly entails
the intention to hurt, embodied to the point by sassy and strong
vocals, by an audacious and rousing sound. It might be a fictional
payoff with one's failed relationship, yet depicts an absorbingly
unaltered, trenchant point of view.
'Somebody Else' addresses itself to an altered relational
storyline, illustrates a seemingly failing romantic bond, and depends
on audible and narrative contrasts. Whilst one of the lovers sees
their relationship threatened - compositionally expressed through a
dashing, thrilling cymbal sound and enhancing, sonorous drum beats -
the other (lovely 'portrayed' by Geneva Pina) asserts that there is
no reason to worry, being busy, uncommunicative at times is rather a
facet of her nature, than evidence for having a love affair with
somebody else. As the track unfolds, edgy, harsh and darkened vocals
come upon the listener and give voice to doubts about the stability,
about the relevance of the relationship, doubts which are, shortly
after they have been expressed, eased by charming, wispy and suave
vocals though. The uncertain lover is lured in by a smooth-tongued,
ingratiating sound of colour, just as sweet in resonance as the
promises and assertions themselves are, and along with the overall
vivacious, bright sound, the dominant elated guitar riffs the
listener is led to believe that this romantic tale isn't about to end
soon.
Whereas
the version of 'Sleep' on Pretty Girls (EP) came in as a
melancholic, gloomy (yet melodically vibrant) song, rather reserved
in instrumentation, which laid emphasis on a regretful, pitiful
reflection of the failed relationship, the remastered version of the
composition, as featured on California Dreams, draws on a jauntier
sound, yet involves a sentimental and revelatory storytelling still.
Cocky and rough vocals, a stressed scratchy and unclean timbre, a
rhythmic drum, a fuzzy and severely atmospheric bass, a prevailing,
impetuous guitar array certainly add to the more dynamic feel of the
song. Maybe the distance to, the reconsideration of the run of events
that inspired 'Sleep' allowed a new perspective, allowed to see the
events in a different light, maybe the band's determination to adapt
the song to the light character of the entire record, brought about
this change. A lyrical testimony to the brighter, more perky sound,
to the compositional adjustment is however strikingly obvious.
The
slightly blue, laid-back and appolonian atmosphere of 'Hurricane Darling' as well as the bluesy, harmonic, treacly backing vocals
evoke a serene and placid scenery: a lover recalls his past
relationship, is lost in thoughts, has found a place of privacy at
the nocturnal shore, possibly watches the waves break as he admits
his heartache. The song's instrumental arrangement adopts the fluent,
balmy and mellow flow of the waves being washed up on the beach,
leaves room for an evocative, incisive notch though too. Soft but
conspicuous drum beats, brisk, lively and striking riffage clashes
with sensitive and emotive vocals of firm timbre. It's a composition
meant to make you wander, meant to incite motion and emotion on the
big screen.
Catchy
and clingy, that is 'Katie'. With lyrics easy to grasp and relate to
- a lover ponders over a lost relationship, yet not mournfully but
realistically and reasonably - with an infectious and nonchalant
sound, the listener is immediately drawn into the song. Sonorous and
sharp vocals, a light and breezy riffage, which rapidly gains
reverberant intensity and tonal gravity - representing the moments
the love flourished - a heavy bass line - indicating the impending
fate of the relationship - and atmospheric drum beats come together
and make for an orotund listening experience. At the point when the
chorus sets in, the instrumentation broadens, an awoken sound rises:
it's a fast-paced, feisty one, extended by a perky, briskly vibrating
instrumental interlude, which dashes exciting drum beats and
passionate yet dark and edgy vocals. For a second time the chorus is imposingly
introduced as the vocals are focused 'Katie I don't understand...'
for a brief moment suspended by a forceful and vigorous drum and bass
array, then taken up again '...what it means to be your man. Oh, I
let you down, I'm the reason everything is wrong' and followed up
by classic rock riffage, flittering and vibrant in sound, as well as
by swinging, exuberant drum beats. Love has been a fantasy this time,
a daydream of abiding pleasent memory, difficult but necesserary to
let go.
A drastic, far-reaching experience is exposed when the vivifying
surf rock sound of 'Diamond Street' springs up: the first yet
defining contact with music. Eager and ardent, virtually stormy
vocals unveil 'I spent my early days on my board, 'till a
rastafari man taught me chords' - and jaunty, almost jubilant
chords join in indeed. Infectious and dashing melodies of high and
free spirit, vivacious drum beats and piercing, blazing riffage tell
in the course of the track about a venturous, rampant, foremost
intense, emotional attachement to music, yet also about belonging,
conversance 'cause only one place feels like home to me, that's
down on Diamond Street'. A surprising but memorable brief drum
encore gives the song a final kick.
The
eponymous track of the album is not only a an ode to California, but
also, as the The Wild Young Hearts stated in an interview, the band's
signature sound, and it's apparent why. Claiming to make youthful,
diverting and bold music, 'California Dreams' resounds with blithe and
brisk guitar riffs, emphatic and cadenced drum beats and
incporporates a good feeling. Smoothly progressing and furnished with
absorbing and exhilarant polyphonic elements the song takes along on
a ride through the lover's memory 'I
can't bring you back so I just flip through pictures of you',
and depicts local, californian features.
The first part of '16' is highlighted by cheery and inciting
guitar riffs, internalizes a contagious summer feel and brings the
lover's larking and far-reaching affection to mind - in remembrance
of first love the sound is refreshing and adventurous. The chorus'
chanting and candid prelude exhibits anthem characteristics, the
chorus itself splits with enthusiasm, is upbeat and fun. The second
part of the song is then defined by imbuing and energetic drum beats,
further on carried by bold and distinguishing, every now and then
framed by high-pitched backing vocals. It's an endearing nonetheless
spirited composition that bears a nostalgic feel, eagerly welcomed by
the audience.
New arranged, still vehement and impressive in both message and
sound, 'What We Know Is Wrong' comes into the blithe and amusing,
sunny and breezy, at times pondering and languorous, at times
fervent and electrifying picture of the LA foursome's debut record.
Its unaltered critical - means evocative, trenchant - and heavy -
means sonorous, impetuous - undercurrent is balanced, punchy in
sound though, through cocky and feisty vocals, is backed by an
energetic instrumenation, which is in turn characterized by
pulsative, shaky still fierce riffage, most notably in the second
half of the composition. Additional, pungent vocal layers contribute
to the dynamic colour of sound now, whereas on Pretty Girls (EP) RJ
Wallace's rap interlude gave a distinctive shape to 'What We Know IsWrong', loosened the severe and solid song structure for a bit, yet
fortified the lyrical aspect.
The Wild Young Hearts' debut album conjures easy, effortless and
entertaining music, music that makes the listener feel good and
invites him to escape, to find a place of lightheartedness and bliss
within the sound presented. In fact it's an easy formula - fun +
airy, melodic sound = memorable music - the recent release of the LA
rock outfit relies on, yet it is one that works.
Indulging in California Dreams is a blithe and brisk experience,
and just as the songs on the record make the audience come along,
herald in a mental wandering, the band has too been on a journey, has
grown in sound and found their place: it's California, the
home of feisty, perky natured, vigorous rock music, heavy lingering,
spirited sound, energetic and frantic live shows even, the home of a
wide and exciting range of musical genres mixed, it's sweeping still
rousing surf rock.
'And
we'd drive up the coast, though
we would have no place to go in mind.'
- California Dreams stirs your imagination and offers plenty, so get the album now.
Reach out to and interact with the band on twitter and facebook
.... listen to their music on soundcloud and bandcamp ....
Read the review of The Wild Young Hearts' EP Pretty Girls here.
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