I’ve heard some publications herald this record as the best album of the decade, which is pure link-bait. Calling any record “the best of the decade” when we’re only four years into it is pre-emptive to the point of idiocy. Whether the album stands the test of time or not is irrelevant. This is the album we needed today, not six years from now.

With that in mind, listen to Under The Pressure, Red Eyes, Eyes To The Wind, and Burning to get a taste of what Lost in the Dream is all about. For many people, this will be their album of the year, and I doubt that claim is hyperbolic.

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Flight from Sorrow reminds me of Jon Foreman’s (of Switchfoot fame) or Ben Gibbard’s (from Death Cab for Cutie) solo records. Jay’s voice is silky smooth, but it sounds particularly magical on these tracks. The Harvest is reminiscent of Fleet Foxes, carrying their angelic approach to songwriting throughout. To Be Honest is as heart-wrenchingly beautiful as its title implies, as Armon sings in the chorus:

”To be honest, we’re all a little scared,
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care.
To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll get there
But it ain’t the fear of dying that makes me come undone
It’s the fear of living with the man I might become.”

Armon explores different styles on songs like I’m Not Home Yet, and Thief in the Night. He’s on tour supporting Noah Gundersen right now, which is an obvious fit: he and Noah share many similarities. Their brands of folk music both feel authentic.

But while Noah Gundersen feels authentic and polished, Armon Jay has a raw quality to him that betrays how early he in his career. It fits the music perfectly: folk music is at its best when its performers sound both vulnerable and naked, and the production value on this record helps with both of those things. It’s a rare treat to hear somebody with such an obvious future, and know that we’re witnessing the beginning of something great.

Despite the fact that Armon’s only just beginning his journey, he’s already a tremendously well-rounded singer and songwriter, and I have no doubt that there are amazing things ahead of him. You’ll love this record.

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Phil Elvrum, the man behind The Microphones, made this the last official Microphones record. Incredibly ambitious, and considering its lo-fi roots, very polished, the record explores themes that are both personal and sometimes noisy. The title track is a great example of one of the noisier tracks, but it’s not noisy in the sense we expect most lo-fi bands to be noisy — it feels like orchestrated noise, not uncomfortable attacks.

But quieter songs like I Felt Your Shape, Map, and I’ll Not Contain You are what make the record for me. Shockingly, I can’t find this record on iTunes, but fans of the genre will love this, but even people not normally interested in lo-fi American rock might find something to enjoy here.

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Bright Leaves is raw enough to sound different from the usual indie pop love note. Young Presidents is as energetic as the record gets, but despite its upbeat drum patterns and pop-laden hooks, it never abandons the insistently smooth vocals of Philip Dickey.

While Fly By Wire isn’t reinventing the wheel with tracks like Loretta and Cover All Sides (which is very much like The Beatles), the record is eminently listenable from front to back and distinctively catchier than some of their peers. Even when Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin aren’t trying to outdo everybody around them, they’re recording more appetizing records.

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The lead single’s video from the record, E Talking, was banned because it was too explicit in its description of hallucinogenic drug use. Hard-hitting tracks like Any Minute Now and Please… Don’t Be Yourself (which might be the most electronic track on the album) dominate the record.

The band barely lets up, with songs like The Truth Is So Boring being the closest you’ll get to a slow burner. Want to rock out like it’s 2004 all over again? Throw on KracK. Want to get your groove on? Throw on YYY/NNN. This album is a ridiculously strange, epic, genre-bouncing ride.

Ultimately, Any Minute Now feels poorly timed. In 2004, Soulwax was competing for the same attention Radiohead was with Hail to the Thief, and the kids were all more concerned with The Killers and Strokes. That doesn’t mean that Any Minute Now is a bad record, but especially with the highlight of time, it’s an odd duck in the history of music — and for some, it proves that Soulwax were never really aware enough to be hip.

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