Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
Every man's journey through life is pocked with stretches of melancholy, joyousness, with irrationality, with irascibility, with idiocy, with phantom pangs, with dubious intentions, with heat and mourning, with restlessness and so many more less-heralded phases. They last as long as they last and they never greet hello or goodbye. They just show up and then cart themselves off quietly, leaving behind used Kleenexes, wrappers, their phone chargers and odd items of clothing. They mysteriously, but effectively leave their markings and their tracks all over our grounds, wearing thin parts of our lawn and causing us to lose sleep and hair while they're around. We put up with these transgressions because there's nothing else that can be done. They're all a part - a significant part - of what we're doing and of what's about to come next. There's no way of rounding the corner without passing through their barricades. We'd like to avoid taking the long way to the next point whenever it's possible, so we endure.
Norwegian group, Young Dreams, happen to be a bunch of men who are incredibly interested in these journeys and their many blips and periods of hydroplaning. Their songs are mostly tender, springtime-sounding odes to self-discovery. They are temptings to expand your mind to what's out there, what's possible. They feel as if they're bursting with excitement and potential and still they never feel like they're coming from places where the skies are always clear and blue. There are dark clouds out there, waiting for them, but navigating them is just part of the fun. They sing, "We're restless/That's why we keep moving/Not empty/Because of our young dreams/We'll live forever," and it's with this belief that they build most of their sentiments around. It's that idea that there are endless combinations of possibilities abounding. It's the hardest part to actually crack them, however, and that's where the friction always comes in. It's what can turn these go-for-broke dreamers - any go-for-broke dreamers - into sad sacks, suddenly unresponsive and depressed. Everything can turn for the worse in a heartbeat. Or, everything can remain green and shiny.