Julian invites us to chiiiillllllllll with some Baltimore-based bedroom pop…
Katherine St. Asaph: This one does have an internal logic: pleasantness. Eventually it does pop off a bit, like a modest Todd Terje.
[7]
Julian Axelrod: 2024 marked the third anniversary of the point where “bedroom pop” officially lost all meaning. But it was also the year Marcus Brown signed to XL, released a perfect 4-song EP and capitalized on a year’s worth of hype, kicking it all off with a self-produced echo chamber of mirrors populated by synth riffs that can be played with two fingers or less. So maybe the dream of the 2010s is alive after all. If “Hell of a Ride” was Nourished by Time with a label budget (shinier, more anthemic, bigger ideas) then “Hand on Me” is the last salvo of independence: twitchy, prickly, each line bristling against the next. It feels like bedroom pop in the “I haven’t left my bedroom in days and my eyes are about to pop out of my head” sense, which feels much truer to my year. Plus, you gotta love a synth pop weirdo who’s not afraid to scat.
[8]
Al Varela: Nourished By Time has such a fascinating approach to music. The haze of synths over a steady beat that eventually builds to a quicker, fuller ensemble of choirs and arpeggios as Nourished By Time muses on about his quest for love is absolutely hypnotizing. It’s a repetitive train of thought, but it’s one that feels like you’re navigating the weirdest, floatiest dream you’ve ever had. Every sharp snap from the drum machines feels like a shot in the arm telling you to keep running, whether that’s toward or away from something. It’s as surreal as it is beautiful.
[8]
Ian Mathers: This is a particularly bleary, psychedelically woozy variety of synthpop, which both feels great as it’s playing and (so far) then isn’t sticking with me too much after it’s over. That is not, strictly speaking, a problem.
[7]
Alfred Soto: I’m a sucker for Badalamenti synth strings, but I’m a bigger fan of emphatic vocals that yet dwell in shadow and mystery. I did not see the second half coming.
[7]
Tim de Reuse: “Million Dollar Baby” reduced on low heat to a syrupy, spreadable consistency. Loose, drawling, overlapping vocals over Casio-adjacent strings. Meandering and directionless except for those two moments where it stops and restarts into a choppy four-note synth loop: a fresh night wind in the face.
[8]
Nortey Dowuona: There’s an easy earnestness in Nourished By Time’s high baritone, which allows him to swirl up through his lush yet barebones beatwork without much effort, but it can also feel complacent and pedestrian, especially if the structure is more rambling, which it is here. Despite the pretty riffs, runs and harmonics, the melodies aren’t strong enough to hold fast in your memory, nor do the lyrics catch hold in your mind. “A miracle’s a miracle to me” — no context, little power behind it. Despite that, the synths are plush and vibrant, easily holding most of the burden of making the song even a bit memorable. But the nothingburger ’80s style kicks and snares, even the bass despite zipping below the bottom of the mix, feel poorly constructed, as if they could crash through the walls out of the song at any time.
[5]
Brad Shoup: The second half brightens considerably — fuzzy fanfares, a tiny motif that scanned circusy in the moment — but over NbT’s numb second-guessing, the lighter touches are like dropshipped string lights in a dark bedroom. The more I think about it, the more I like “a miracle’s a miracle to me”.
[7]
Leah Isobel: In about three years, I will fully Get this song. I’m excited for that moment. Until then, I just find it unobtrusively likeable.
[6]
Dave Moore: Usually recoil at the latest wave of warped cassette tape pop, but I like how Nourished by Time stays on the right side of irony-or-is-it-poisoning, which I’ll ascribe to vocals that sound like they dream of something bigger.
[7]