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Day Joy is plucking at my heartstrings. The Orlando, Florida band known for their brand of dreamy folk-pop with comparisons to The Decemberists, Radiohead and Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (in the same sentence) has roped me in. Dave Grohl once said, “Give me some rope I’m coming loose,” and then one day my editor sent me an album with an elephant parading over some sort of volcanic structure with a rocketing moon exploding over the proceedings.
We all love the moon. I don’t know if I’ve seen it quite in the way Jim Carrey tries to pull it down from the sky in Bruce Almighty until the Day Joy album art brought it directly to my heart. Then, the majestic touch of the elephant (my favorite animal, soon to be yours?) making the cerebral Earth its own catwalk just makes me warm and tingly.
Perhaps I’m coming loose, unraveling at the seams, but this is my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Much like the Earth, the creative warmth of the band starts with an inner core of two University of Central Florida students bonding over music in Spanish class. Peter Michael Perceval, a critic and music enthusiast in his own right (founder of culture blog the Dropp) and Michael Serrin, an Orlando singer/songwriter from locally renowned band An Introduction to Sunshine. Serrin has a classical background writing chamber pieces for recitals and working as a paid pianist, with a tortured indie folk demon nipping away at his soul.
Exactly as the album sounds, the correlation is parallel to the causation of the album art, with the catalyst for creation coming from a rooftop – a folk porch in the sky – the dynamic duo would literally step out a window, free themselves in the vast “sky is the limit” atmosphere, get lost, and find themselves into the genesis of what you hear today.
In the words of the band themselves, on Bandcamp…
“Day Joy's music began from friendship and humble beginnings writing on the porch late at night in dreamy Orlando FL. It moved into the living room where it has developed into the lush and layered recordings you hear now with the help of some modest recording equipment and a little bit of liquor.”
They flushed out their sound by pilfering some bandmates from a Daytona Beach, FL band called Loud Valley (self proclaimed Panda Bear of Florida) and the bassist and studio owner from another Orlando band, friends of Loud Valley, Saskatchewan. Now a five-piece grounded in their Floridian roots, it all assembles an ensemble of all-star local musicians ready to devour a flight of “next steps.”
Go To Sleep, Mess is dreary, yet crisp, allowing itself to exist in a cleansing, cohesive dark cloud. There is typically a great deal going on in each song, whether it’s nature sounds, time changes, harmony shifts and/or complicated melodies, but within all of that, is an incredibly simple presentation. Much like the intricate dishes of Iron Chef once plated, seem like nothing at all, but the layers will unfold with effervescent grace on your palate, bubbling away like burning butter in a skillet. I liked the music right away, but it certainly gets better and more addicting with every listen.
My favorite song on the album is the sixth track “CCD,” which makes a classic “Band on the Run” triple transformation, without repeating onto itself. It opens addicting and similar to Love is Hell Ryan Adams’ “Afraid, Not Scared” (any TSE readers sick of me referencing this album?) and seamlessly shifts into a Pink Floyd layered vocal harmony in an echo chamber meets “Wordless Chorus,” finally culminating with a “Layla” piano-outro style carousel ride. Whew. That’s an exhausting sentence and an even more draining ride. The lyrics are dark and enchanting, reminding me of one of my least favorite, yet fondly suffering, memories as a blonde Catholic schoolboy going to CCD. I know for a fact there exists a harem of nuns (tasteless choice in words, but I love it…) in West Michigan that HATED ME. I did not take that shit seriously. Anyway…
The exhausting nature of “CCD” subsides, when it transitions into a surprisingly sexy and clear sounding “little pieces of your hair/on the edges of my bed...” from the most accessible song on the album, “Melting.” The chorus hook has a catchy “oooOOOooooOOO” cadence sounding tortured, but in an attractive way. The blend on the vocals is crisp like freshly sliced pears and just as sweet. It’s very sexy, like hooking up with someone you’re not supposed to, but you enjoyed it, thoroughly even though it was oh, so, wrong. So, the hint of regret is taken away by the magic and fun. I think it’s the moment on the album where the Orlandian (a word?) sun peaks through the dreary songwriter smog. From there, the rest of the album decisively decrescendos, taking advice from the title and “goes to bed, mess.” You’re at the apex of the 10-song daytime joy ride, and meanwhile, the next three songs will sheep their way over your dreamy fence.
Moving back up to the third track “Talks of Terror,” an interesting number that sort of channels a nature bound folk band I enjoy, Austin, TX’s, Shearwater. After a outdoor choir intro song “Animal Noise” (might as well be called Animal Joy) and a slow churning Neil Young-esque harmonica ballad, “Bone and Bloody” a slow snare beat flips into an angry wordless chorus, striking terror and putting the listener back on his/her respective heels. True to the name of the song, it’s a bit terrifying, but it lets you know to expect the unexpected. There is a great deal of range throughout the well-scripted chaotic journey of Go To Sleep, Mess.
It’s a tightly scripted masterpiece with a clear introduction, thick meaty body and a lazy river baby carriage resolution, rocking you to sleep in the warm Florida sun—putting those weary thoughts to bed.
If I had a pet elephant, once a day I would let it fill its trunk with 101-degree Epsom salt water and shower my mind, body and soul. That’s honestly the EXACT reason I’ve always wanted a pet elephant. Due to expense, nature, upkeep, the fact that my apartment isn’t big enough to house a runt-of-the-litter kitten…Go To Sleep, Mess will have to sustain me until my elephant dream allows itself to come to fruition.
As messy as my life is, as it is, I can live with that.
Go To Sleep, Mess is available NOW! Buy it or forever suffer from sleep depravation. No elephants were harmed in this creation, execution or future duration of the ideas presented in this piece.
Day Joy Official – Facebook – Bandcamp - Twitter - Insound - iTunes
Elephants are the best, right? So is sleeping and taking naps in the sun. Ryan C. Zerfas writes about all these amazing entities (along with music and sports) in his blog and on his Twitter. Now, grab a lemonade and read up!
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