Timber Timbre’s fifth studio album “Hot Dreams” sounds entirely out of place in the unending, nearly oppressive sunshine of its April 1 release. That’s because it’s hard to disassociate the five-part Canadian group from the eerie moonlight swamp that the group's dark folk evokes. Oh, but when the sun sets and the shadows swallow the streets, “Hot Dreams” is the only music you’ll want to hear.
Much like 2011’s cinematic “Creep On Creepin’ On,” “Hot Dreams” sounds like the soundtrack to a lost David Lynch film of grit and decay. The opening credits would no doubt be set to the sorrowful melody of “Beat the Drum Slowly,” a tale of “a golden age / it flickered out into celluloid ashes,” where the camera winds its way through the world of the faded glamour that the album naturally inhabits.
Enter the rich, curled-lip croons of singer Taylor Kirk, whose simultaneously seductive and haunting presence lingers even in the album’s various instrumental interludes – like that in “Resurrection Drive Part II,” where an atmosphere of uneasy strings clash marvelously with the lustful oozing of saxophones. It’s the ideal accompaniment for a lonesome stroll through a neighborhood streets steeped in fog.
Timber Timbre’s prime strength is the ability to construct a visceral experience for the listener, who can’t help but conjure images of fog caught in a passing car’s headlights or the sinister motels of an alternate universe of noir mystique. This is an impressive feat given the relatively sparse orchestrations of Simon Trottier. But despite this, “Hot Dreams” is a lush, breathing world of sorrow and intrigue that’s certainly not for those who prefer Disney Channel to David Lynch.
When Kirk’s lustful blues reign, his voice seems to echo in an empty bar, smoke curling through the air, as he drifts from the Grand Canyon to the “ethereal palms” of Los Angeles (which features chords that sound awfully similar to the theme of David Lynch’s "Twin Peaks"). The travelogue of “Grand Canyon” may seem a thematic misstep in the album’s overarching atmosphere (there is a reference to sunlight), but it’s a hypnotizing portrait of an America that never quite existed.
From there, “Hot Dreams” hits a high of “This Low Commotion” where a pained Kirk wonders “What does it mean to face desire?” This question does not go unanswered for long, as we finally glimpse the previously elusive curves of his love in “The New Tomorrow,” the album’s unsettling climax where we are left wondering if his love’s body is lifeless. “Yes, we see the body of my love,” echoes over an unsettling organ, implying that the only hearts beating at the end of the track are Kirk’s and the listener’s.
The album completes its creepy romp through a world of decayed glamour and frustrated desire with the instrumental “The Three Sisters,” which raises more questions than it answers. Very little has been resolved as a final saxophone solo belts over the slow marching rhythm of harpsichords and heartrending guitar chords that brought us into Timber Timbre’s exacting aesthetic. It implies not so much the end of an album but the lonely road that winds its way into the night.
"Hot Dreams" drops April 1 on Arts & Crafts.
Reach the reporter at Zachariah.Webb@asu.edu or follow him on Twitter @zachariahkaylar
