In The Brothers Karamazov, the monk Alyosha falls asleep and imagines he is Christ at Cana. He arises in a state of holiness, feeling deeply connected to God and all of creation. Then, to the surprise of the other monks, he moves to Philadelphia (the City of Brotherly Love) to write an instrumental hip-hop album. (What, you don’t know your Dostoyevsky?) At this point, midway through his journey, things grow surreal. Perhaps he is still dreaming. Perhaps he is a butterfly, dreaming he is a monk, dreaming he is the Son of God, dreaming he is playing these songs at the wedding instead of turning water into wine. Perhaps he is thinking, if only those around me could feel such symmetry to root and rhythm, to tempo and timbre, could tap into the celestial realm and hear the music of the spheres. If he were to share his dream, would they follow him? Would they cast their nets aside and head off to octaves unknown?
dream sequence shares sonic DNA with Future Sound of London, but adds a host of contemporary touches. Some odd samples come into play (“Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” on “mind in transit”, an alarm clock pulse on “misfortune”), enough to draw interest without alienating the listener. The slow progression from an ambient sound field to an experimental one provides propulsion; the deeper one delves, the curiouser things get. Is that Chuck Mangione serenading birds on “a lovely thought”? Exhaust steam on “dream factory”? Thankfully, even when the synths begin to sputter into abstraction, alyosha’s dream retains its groove. The loveliest sections – the beatless middle and end of “aftermath”, the convoluted, wave crushing finale of “diving into madness” – even produce a light transcendence. If by the end of the album we don’t feel a divine connection, we at least feel a certain peace. This is one dream we won’t forget upon waking. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 