Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Matt Oliver, Mastering by Sam Patlove
It could be a point of argument or contention, but it seems that one of the nicest things that can happen to a person is when the dreams that you fall asleep with and experience overnight, in the dark, are enough to sustain you - to keep you regular and relatively sane. They feel real, like they really happened - in all of their impossible incarnations and scenarios - and you feel refreshed and charged up to begin another day, after all of those fake adventures, those fantastic brushes with fame and fortune, those trysts and those amorous dealings. It's wonderful when the fabricated masquerades and sojourns of our dozing hours feel touchable and as if they really occurred and it's even better if we don't want for too much more than that. It's best if we don't over-wish or feel the need to tramp on our own spirits with thoughts of what we might never be able to do or attain or be during our waking hours. It can be a rough thing, suppressing ourselves, but living without the unnecessary burdens can sure be nice. Coral Springs, Florida, group Millionyoung lodges no complaints in this conversation. We think that they'd agree with us in thinking that the best dance parties and the moments when we feel the most at ease, when we're suave and we feel as if we're the most dashing and slick creatures that have ever lived are the ones we've never attended and those that we've never quite actually experienced, respectively. They exist somewhere, just not in our memories. We need to drift off and into a different mind to feel as if we'd been there and done those things, felt the floor working with us instead of working against us, felt all eyes on us, felt things feel effortless. Millionyoung send us soaring into a different realm that feels like a full-body massage, as if we're being taken care of by tiny, invisible hands working out all of the unbearable knots in our muscles. We are exposed to a feeling of having imbibed a short handful of premium drinks that have left us feeling comforted and loved and as if we just put fresh and cool, clean new sheets on our bed. It's an all-encompassing feeling that partially reminds us of the pop of French Kicks and that of the warm waters off a Caribbean coast, one that might not even exist. The coast might not be there. The waters might not be there and we might only be experiencing this as shadows, but, all things considered, it's as good as it gets.