Dagdrøm moves forward.
Following their first EP, released in 2022, Sebastian (guitar), Max (vocals), Oli (drums), Stefan (bass) and Julian (guitar) composed and recorded Schauder, their first album, which they released independently, mixed by Nikita Kamprad (Der Weg einer Freiheit).
After a soaring opening track that gradually builds to anguish, Ascheregen leaps out at us, revealing both its visceral darkness and the heady melodies that fuel the track’s contrast. The break allows us to catch our breath before the frantic race resumes, bringing raw elements but also howls borrowed from DSBM before giving way to Purpurne Stadt, where anxiety resurfaces within the short quietude that precedes the expected conflagration, which gives pride of place to violence. Double kick and jerky patterns meet the singer’s cries and the impressive break that leads to the tortured finale before Tagtraum, where melancholy and dissonance dance hand in hand at a sometimes rather sustained pace, before entwining in an almost reassuring softness as Max claims his despair. The massive final leaves us on Alle Worte, whose initial vaporous moments suddenly burst into flames, spreading their darkness in waves of varying shades of violence, intoxicating and rhythmic. Eventually, the track explodes and makes way for the surging Atme, oscillating between pure fury and the highly melodic potential of more ethereal, airy refrains, but Flüsse darkens the picture once again with a highly powerful, aggressive sound at high speed. Although it’s very changeable, the track offers plenty of movement, from a hurricane to a spoken break before letting Freund impose his unpredictable patterns that fit perfectly with the crazy approach the band wants to give it, even including an intriguing solo or a heavier passage before allowing us to breathe for a while with Ära. The calm doesn’t last, of course, and metamorphoses into a new tidal wave of shadow and dissonance, but the band change their approach on Kalte Fliesen, the final track, to slowly envelop us in their oppression, getting us used to their anguish before intensifying it all at once, making it simply dementedly realistic.
Dagdrøm establishes a nightmarish atmosphere with Schauder, and even if this oppression diminishes slightly from time to time, it’s like a real sleep paralysis session: somewhere, lurking in the shadows and waiting for its moment to emerge again.
95/100