I'm intrigued by the title of Seattle band Coral Grief's EP, Daydrops. It evokes for me the transformation of the incorporeal into the substantial. Here condensing the idea of a "day" into a fluid- converting its associated phenomena, such as light and warmth, as well as its conceptual characteristics, like renewal and truth, into a vital reduction that descends in cleansing waves. It wouldn't be worth unpacking all of this unless it revealed to us some aspect of the music Coral Grief have recorded, and I assure you that this has not been a false start. The band has a delightful capacity to weave the strands of a daydream into the texture of their sound, manifesting within each track, from the calming rustle and upward drifting electric waterfall progressions of "Copycat," to the glistening jangle and tangy starlight burst of "Wow Signal," to the final pensive stillness of the title track, an emergence of the disembodied into the realm of the body-effective sound. Their music is the result of a transubstantiation process that they involve the listener in fully, as if they were plucking the materials for these songs from your very own mind, like you had a hank of yarn dangling off your should from your inner ear, and they got ahold of it, pulled out a length, wrapped it around a pair of needles and knit you a quilt for you to lie under while the gentleness of their music lulled you into a state of repose. Daydrops is a spyglass telescoping into the world of the imaginary, focusing and defining the previously notional aspects of this realm with lovely, smooth, and bold curvatures.
