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