Labels don’t get you too far when it comes to music. That said, Dulldrums self-administered tag of “dream-folk” is actually perfect for this, their debut single. Formerly of Mewn, husband and wife Matt and Rachel looked for a way to make music without the intense commitment a full band demands. The result is Dulldrums.
It is fair to say that the more relaxed nature of their new working environment oozes out of every sonic pore of ‘If I’d Known’ (although Mewn were hardly up there with Slipknot): a gentle cascade of picked acoustic guitar notes, a spaciously brooding bassline, an ever-rising, atmospheric sonic wash and oh, those vocals – think Hope Sandoval’s innocence meets Liz Fraser’s mystique in a delicate folkscape.
It is fair to say I have an arsenal of overused adjectives and adverbs that the literary police have warned me about overusing, and I’m on my final warning, but in the face of music like this I have little choice but to throw caution to the verbose winds. ‘If I’d Known’ is gorgeously opaque, delicate to the point that you feel even listening to it might break it into a thousand fragments; it is loaded with innocence and ethereality; it is ephemeral, at times hardly seeming to exist at all, sonically graceful, gracious and gorgeous.
Well, that is my quota of such words used up; if you want more, you will have to get this exquisite and endearing (see, I can’t stop myself) single yourself…and you must get the single yourself; your life will be immeasurably better for doing so.
