Written by: Eric Thompson

Mark these words: several of the songs on this record will end up in car commercials. Volkswagen, perhaps. Or maybe you’ll hear one in a movie, during the montage in which the protagonists throw all their stuff in a hatchback and drive to California. There are some absolutely perfect hipster travel tunes on this thing. But Brooklyn band Snowmine also make interesting enough musical decisions to keep the headphone literati shaking their heads Yes inside their studio apartments. This is just a really solid pop record. Not bubbly, not pretentious, just really good.

The album wastes no time. The opening track, “To Hold an Ocean,” is a one minute fifty-two second declaration of intentions. A synthesized bass beat greets you right when you press play. “Please whisper lines of books that I should have read,” sings Grayson Sanders in his falsetto while strings swell and cut off behind him. And here we go. Orchestral elements are blended expertly with digitally created fauna and right when you’re noticing the lapping tide pool recording the song morphs and bleeds into the next, “Rome.” It’s a driver. We’re out of the city now and making good time on the open road. Then comes “Columbus.” The beginning of this song sounds like slowed down carousel music. Seriously. But then a choir sweeps in along with some violins and delivers it right to Sanders, who sings a line and we’re off again. There was something odd about that town, yes. It’s these surprising asides and weird little musical avenues that make Dialects so good. The songs catch you unawares. Sometimes you come around a bend in the highway and lose your breath to the vista. One of those rarefied and pretty scenes is “You Want Everything.” This one’s a little more straightforward than most of what precedes. Like a good sunset, it happens by degrees and somewhat predictably, but gorgeously so. It builds to the fulfillment of its initial promise. And Snowmine, self assured as they are, follow that with a head bobbing instrumental track. There’s a lot going on on this record but the operative word here is synthesis. It all fits, feels right. By the time we get to the last song, “Dollar Divided,” a picked chord lullaby that takes on some Grizzly Bear-ish instrumental textures after the first verse and then lets them go so that the album ends with just guitar and voice, it’s exactly what we need. Like a shower and a hotel bed after a whole day spent behind the wheel.

I’m almost mad that Dialects is getting released in February. I want to get in my truck, put this on and go. Like now. But spring and summer will be here soon enough. And with Snowmine’s help, we’ll all be ready.