Neon Indian! Doesn’t the phrase simply conjure up magical images of happy native Americans trading the land that was their birthright for expanded gambling rights? No? Just me then? Right you are. Who Neon Indian are, then, is an as yet unidentified duo from Austin/Brooklyn (although apparently the Austin connection is Alan Palomo from Vega/Ghosthustler) who have recently taken to producing a fine line in gauze-y, warped, psych infused Dream Wave/Hypnogogic Pop/Whatever it is people are calling it right now. Which doesn’t really sound like… anything on paper, but I assure you, the tracks on their recently released Psychic Chasms EP are some of the best I’ve heard all year.

In tone it’s not entirely dissimilar to ‘Saturdays = Youth’-era M83, but whereas that album maintained a crispness in its visions of 1980s teendom (‘Kim & Jessie’ could probably have been played at most proms in 1985 without anyone batting an eyelid at the time-traveling impostor), Neon Indian seems far more uncertain in its recollections. Perhaps it took some bad acid on the first weekend of year twelve and woke up 10 months later with no memory, a high school diploma, a new scar down its left calf and the nickname ‘melon fucker’. Whatever the story, the music plays much like a cassette that’s been left in a warm car for the last 20 years to give it that nice ‘this could be anything from early Metallica through to Bonnie Tyler’ faded and distorted quality. It’s warm and intoxicating, curious and varied, and fills me with hope for the future of pop music. Ah, the sweet tang of hyperbole.

I have been drifting into a slow obsession with one particular track over the last few days though. I mean, the whole EP is pretty killer and many, many people have been losing their metaphorical shit over fourth track ‘Deadbeat Summer’, but for me it’s hard to go past the opener ’6669 (I Don’t Know If I Know)’. More precisely, it’s hard to go past the first drop, eight seconds in, when the woozy, confused synths of the intro suddenly fall into a rolling, fuzzed out tribute to 80s New Wave, all swirling, smeared out nostalgia and echoing vocals. It’s sad and hopeful and off-hand all at once as the singer rambles on about everything falling apart while the backing track seems in danger of doing just that. But, fuck, I’m not doing it any justice here, so how’s about you just listen to the track, have your mind blown and then buy the EP. It’ll make your day measurably better, I promise. Or else just wait for the full album, due on October 13. It’ll make your day better then too, and may even work a little better with the onset of spring. You can put it on a mixtape for a pretty girl in an almost too early in the season summer’s dress or something.

Neon Indian – 6669 (I Don’t Know If I Know)

-luke