Sorta like the broodingness of SECRET BOYFRIEND, stolen soul of Xiu Xiu, and longing we have for Dylan Ettinger, Sleep Museum comes within earshot of a blended originality that lingers in the mind months after just a hit of “When We Were.” But this demon of transitional shapes, colors, and shadows blend — just as well — with the song in a faded and disturbing display of what sleep walking looks like around 4AM when you open your eyes miles from home, and the only thing you have is, wait —your cellphone has piss and blood on it and neither are yours. There’s a steam powered engine in the distance smoke signaling you toward it’s pressuring beat under a sterile florescent light, and you see a dual smoke signal, Sleep Muesum is standing in the shadows crooning you as a siren from the bewilderment of this harsh wake up, instantly easing your tension.
If only “When We Were” really DID refer to that time, it’d put better context to the situation, maybe, but it doesn’t, and that didn’t happen, as you continue wandering the highway with thumb en-route. No destination in mind and SHIT!!! Just slipped on a cassette tape on the wet road and it reads The Vitrine of Blindness which you laugh at the irony when finding Sleep Muesum’s name on the other side, branded by Golden Cloud Tapes. Change route. Let’s go north.
ORDER HERE AND NOW: The Vitrine of Blindness by Sleep Museum from Golden Cloud Tapes, it’s a C(fucking)60(YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and will take you upon many adventures. Breath with “When We Were” below in the mean-time: