This one crawled into my head and wouldn’t leave, which is on-brand for a track called Spiders. MIND works in that lush, slightly melancholy strain of melodic electronic that sounds engineered to score the last ten minutes of an indie film, the part where nobody’s talking and the camera just holds on a face. The vocal is chopped and pitched until it stops being words and starts being texture, floating over a beat that never quite rushes. I had it on walking somewhere with no real hurry and the whole street went a couple of degrees sadder and better-looking, which is the specific trick this music pulls when it works. What gets me is the restraint; there’s an obvious big-drop version of this song and MIND politely declined to make it, letting the emotion build instead of detonate. Plenty of producers in this corner reach for the huge cathartic payoff because it’s the easy win, and leaving it on the table takes more nerve than using it. It’s pretty, and it earns the prettiness, the sort of track you put on to feel something at a low volume. Short, clean, and it gets under the skin exactly like the title promises.
Chrome Daydream
Chrome stars, jelly hearts and holographic colour. A nod to the glossy, optimistic graphics of the early web.