“Moody Snooz” C30 (Hylé Tapes)

Dan Olsen is Dang Olsen, and if his parents had been smart, they’d have named him that right off the bat. But they didn’t, and Dan was just Dan until he realized he had a talent for warp zone pop nuggets, or maybe just pop nugs, and started liquefying his musical inspirations into fluorescent metallic goo. After a while, he stood back and surveyed what he had created, exclaiming “Dang!” Thus the prophecy was foretold.

This is not my first rodeo in Dang Olsen Dream Tape’s world: I reviewed his Constellation Tatsu tape Just Roll and loved it (along with his art, a perfect visual aid to the music – “eyeball brain rainbow entity”!). Here, on Moody Snooz, his first release for Hylé Tapes, Olsen continues riding the hypnogogic vaporwave train he’s been conducting for a while, marrying varied elements of the styles with an ambient bent, as if he intended all listeners to relax on a space beach after ripping gravity bong hits for a few hours. That’s right – you’ll not not hallucinate under these circumstances.

What’s weird is that I just added The Moody Blues’ Days of Future Past to my Discogs collection, because I have it on vinyl for some reason, so Moody Snooz, although it sounds nothing like The Moody Blues, makes me think of that. But this is a red herring, as Justin Hayward, John Lodge, and crew would never have come up with a tune as awesomely named as “Bud Booger Trance Majik” (and take that, Anthony Kiedis!) They also would likely have not been as adept at the act of balancing beats and space, as Olsen does. “High Guide” brings the drone with the subtle pulse, “Pumpin” drops the head-nod beat for cruising the strip, and “Stones” soundtracks the late-night comedown. And these are the first three tracks!

If the term “cold chillin’” is in your vocabulary (and why wouldn’t it be?), then Moody Snooz is the tape for you. There is no harshing this buzz – the Dream Tape rolls until it stops and then it unspools in your mind in the form of waves consisting of magnetic strips eternally wash upon a boombox shore. That is what the kids call “maxin’” and “relaxin’,” if I’m not mistaken. And I’m never mistaken. So get on it – the beach is that way, mon frère. Here’s an umbrella drink and a towel.

--Ryan Masteller