Two suns ease over the horizon simultaneously, rays overlapping and multiplying: first verdant hillsides strung with rapidly dissipating, golden-stained mist, then a broad arc of glistening highway not yet bustling with hovercars, and finally the domes and arches and towers of the waking City appear. The light touches nondescript apartment blocks, shuttered for night, that open like mechanical flowers, while patios and elevated promenades fold out, and huge windows wink open to accept the morning. Markets unfold and streets wind suddenly where none had been before to connect in a complex, efficient system. In smooth, perfect motions the City comes alive, beating with a pulse like a large and living creature, stretching and yawning in the now complete daylight.
And so opens the self-titled debut 12″ from Love Like Deloreans, pressed in red vinyl and out shortly on Friendly Ghost recordings. With all the melodies played (by hand!) over springing drum machines, the Brooklyn synthesizer trio create warm, brightly fluttering tones that evoke 50s retro-futurism by way of Kraftwork and 80s new wave. It's nostalgic but forward-looking, and perhaps irrestible. And despite familiar reference points, it doesn't sound much like anything else currently making the rounds. Just bask in the glow of this first track for a bit: