Dayglow Shines Like a Diamond in Self-Titled Record
Feel-good music is a well-cut diamond, shimmering just a bit differently, brighter, on each of its four angles—Dayglow’s eponymous record is the sonic embodiment of this iridescent shimmer. Dayglow, born Sloan Struble, has certainly always made it a point to deliver music that can be characterized as fun, fuzzy, and fabulous, and this record ups the ante.
As the first track, “Mindless Creatures,” strums its way into a trance-inducing beat, we lift off. “Remember when / I could barely believe in it? / Staring up at the ceiling fan / Nothing ever would happen then / Now look at where we are now,” is an instant sung reflection that opens up the album and positively steeps us in Dayglow’s new recognition-based world. As his world goes from bedroom, indie-pop, stardom dreams to rising-star realities, we’re invited into that very personal journey.
“Every Little Thing I Say I Do” seamlessly transitions from the first track, adding some much-appreciated rock elements such as Dayglow’s early ‘00s distortion-glazed vocals and an elated fuzzed-out solo. The track is pumped up, energized, and colored in brighter pastels. “Cocoon” keeps the sonic sprint going, with a touch of pop-punk velocity and panache that, with Dayglow’s slick falsettos, beautifully elevates the song.
Of course, the standout track of the album is “What People Really Do,” which drops us in with a treacle bassline that makes way for a strut of a composition that feels as if it’s from a nostalgic pre-Facebook, iPhone millennium—maybe something you would have listened to on your Walkman, dancing on some street near home.
“This Feeling” is scintillating, “Weatherman” is asymmetric and radiant—different sides of the same diamond, shining with their light-filled vocals and snaking guitar licks and riffs, changing tempos à la 2003. It is an experience had from the album’s opener to its final tracks—a complete go-lucky hypnosis triggered by a carnival of sounds whose only admission ticket is the promise of losing yourself to it all.
Purposefully, the final song, “Broken Bone,” has a slow-tempo opener that tricks you into a different direction, only to build up for the final stretch of this sonic dart. The album concludes as it began—reflective, energized, and welcoming of a new chapter at hand. As Dayglow sings his final falsettos and the guitars echo away, you may feel as though you know him just a bit better now.
Dayglow is a benchmark for the artist, and he recognizes as much in the constant rear-view mirror references in each song. If you listen carefully, you will discover a young artist stopping to smell the roses, with greener pastures and greater successes fixed in sight.
Listen to Dayglow below:
