When we talk about “dream pop,” there’s a certain aesthetic language that comes to mind: gauzy, synth-glossed textures; aqueous guitar lines rippling out across a sea of tranquility; blissfully blurred vocals smeared over soft-focus melodies. But really, these sonic signifiers relate more to the sensation of falling asleep than to what actually transpires in your mind once you go under. Let’s be real: dreams are rarely a linear, idyllic experience. They’re a crazy-quilt of past traumas, deep- seated anxieties, and absurd scenarios (not to mention inexplicable cameos from forgotten childhood friends and dead relatives) that manifest themselves in all sorts of disorienting, often disturbing ways. And by that measure, Dollshot are the most authentic, accurate dream-pop band around.
Dollshot are a group who feel most at home in a state of perpetual dislocation. The husband-and- wife duo of vocalist Rosie and saxophonist Noah K are forever hovering between oppositional worlds—physically, musically, and spiritually. She’s from a small town in Virginia, he’s from L.A. They both cut their teeth at conservatory (with copious classical compositions, chamber-ensemble commissions, and jazz recordings to their names), but they conceived of Dollshot as an indie-rock outfit where they could bend the rules of their formal training. This is a band than can school you on the microtonal theories of Russian experimental composer Ivan Wyschnegradsky and gush about No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom with equal enthusiasm.
Dollshot’s self-titled 2011 debut saw them do what so many nascent bands attempt on their first records—i.e., work through their influences in search of their own singular voice. Though in their case, they were taking on some of the most towering figures in the history of music, and putting their own deconstructive spin on works by Arnold Schoenberg, Francis Poulenc, and Charles Ives. Rosie compares the process to the old story of abstract-expressionist artist Robert Rauschenberg visiting his idol Willem de Kooning in 1953 and asking him for a drawing. “De Kooning picks his favorite to give to Rauschenberg,” Rosie explains, “and then Rauschenberg erases it and makes it his own work, called ‘Erased de Kooning Drawing.’ And in a lot of ways, our first record is that for me—confronting our influences and also leaving them behind.”
Now, with Lalande, Dollshot peel out for parts unknown. . .
For additional information on Dollshot, please contact: Brendan Bourke • email@example.com • 347-564-2927 Jeff Kilgour • firstname.lastname@example.org • 917-678-4420