On The Disappearing Dreams of Yesterday, Atlanta’s Reverends blends sunny psychedelia with shoegaze’s droning iciness, which is perfectly represented by the cold and surreal album cover.
Lead by Rev. Dandy Lee Strickland, the band cranks out melancholic dirges here that feel both isolated and yet also dreamy, like the after effects of a burned out bender. Their sound is reminiscent of the drone-heavy early ‘90s output of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, but with the addition of the lysergic sneer of a young Robyn Hitchcock.
From the dazed rumblings of “The Great Roadrunner” to the catchy as hell “Sometimes I…,” this is a record that would appeal to a wide audience, including fans of My Bloody Valentine, Dinosaur Jr, and even Tame Impala.
Perhaps one of the strongest aspects of the record is its endless supply of passion. In songs like “8 Million,” Strickland’s vocals cry out with a visceral longing, while purifying walls of howling guitars roar recklessly behind him. This element, which flows throughout much of the LP, instantly makes your heart remember past loves and painful regrets with a wistful nostalgia. This facet of the record helps to keep it on or near your turntable at all times.
Reverends will drape you with a dreamy emotional haze, no matter who you are. See for yourself today, by grabbing their album on colored or standard vinyl here.