Originally written and performed by Pavement in 1992, the song has already this feature of sounding accidental on purpose. Wolf's cover however takes this to the next level and gently removes even the suggestion of an effort.

The result has a distinctly demo-like feel. Just this low-key guitar strumming with all the urgency of a houseplant photosynthesizing in winter and Wolf's fragile voice. One might ask, did anyone here even feel like it?

And yet it works. The song creates a unique dark atmosphere, proving that sometimes the boldest artistic statement is a well-executed shrug.

When your inhabit the first few minutes of the song, the spherical sounds lulling you into a state of maximum relaxation, somewhere between a spa day and the comforting realization that nothing is expected of you ever again

Just as you've fully accepted your fate as ambient space dust, the last third arrives with a sudden mood swing and the song moves heroically toward its grand finale, which reminds me of Empty Cans by The Streets in a odd way.

In the end, it lives up to its name: A perfect Transition!

Spectacular, on the other hand, is Anna-Lynne Williams' voice, which carries the entire song and gives it its unique mood.

Perfect on a cold January morning in 2026, when the sky is gray and optimism is technically still alive but clearly not thriving. This Song doesn't try to save you from that mood. It simply sits beside you, which, honestly, feels so much more like pure love.

Maybe it's because I first heard it in "The Leftovers", a tv-show where everyone is one emotional breakdown away from hugging a blender. In that context, this song feels less like a country ballad and more like an inside joke: Yes, the world is ending, but at least the soundtrack is great.

"The Promise" is also an excelent karaoke choice for declaring your undying devotion to someone who, let's be honest, would rather be anywhere else.

It's painful, it's dramatic, it's perfect.

This blissful disorientation continues until Julianna's angelic voice drifts in and returns you, at least partially, to the mortal realm.

The reverb is so thick it turns the lyrics into a distant, poetic fog — which is honestly ideal, really - actual comprehension would only ruin the vibe. This isn't a song you just listen; it's a song you surrender to.

It's Linda Perhacs' perfect angelic voice and the calm, acoustic arrangement that makes you stare out the window for a very long time before you ask yourself whether things will be "true again" after the apocalypse hits or wether the first cup of coffee in the morning will be enough.

It's also the lyrics that make the song beautiful, powerful, and just optimistic enough to make all the despair it conveys seem poetic.

10/10 for cosmic melancholy.

The song is awesome in that quietly devastating Yo La Tengo way — romantic, slightly blurred, like Paul Le Mat in 1980 driving off into the fog, never realizing the world ended three exits back. Five stars!

Co-written and produced by Brian Wilson and David Sandler, "Sweet Mountain" opens with a slow, harmonious section before leaping into bright, piano-driven driven passages that bubble with California optimism.

While it may not have been a commercial success, the track is a sweet slice of baroque-pop psychedelia. Unmistakably a product of its time, yet today, more than 50 years later, it has become timelessly beautiful.

Weatherall created a majestic reinterpretation that reminds me of driving through a dystopian, futuristic, foggy city at night. The most prominent feature is the rumbling bass line that serves as the perfect foundation for the spectral distorted synth motifs that seem to come from some unseen world. Electronic elegance doesn't get any better than this.

Built around the sustained vocals of Zach Condon, "Tuanaki Atoll" evokes for me the image of a slow-swaying sailing ship drifting across calm waters. This track sticks in your head. Having already been charmed by the earlier singles, particularly the beautiful "Guericke's Unicorn", I'm more convinced than ever that this album will be one of my standout records this year.

I came across the track through the German TV series "Dark", which I'm only now watching with a few years’ delay. Deacon's storytelling in this song, surreal and poetic, is a surprisingly fitting choice for the series, which actually strikes a quieter tone. But just like the show, the song feels otherworldly, experimental in its many layers of sound, much like the layers of time in "Dark".

My personal song of the year 2025!

"Cody" is wonderfully restrained with a rather subtle instrumentation. But make no mistake it is precisely this deliberate pace that makes the atmosphere of the song so impressive. The lyrics are gripping, beautifully sad and drenched in nostalgia, painting pictures of times gone by. There is a yearning in every line carried by Braithwait's understated yet expressive voice, which make this song an timeless classic.

A bitter-sweet song full of heartache and loss, about the ever-returning spring that seems forever painfully linked to past times with a loved one. The real magic, however, is the turn towards hope. This gives the song an elegant ending that celebrates the healing power of nature and the cyclical rhythm of life that allows one to find peace in the present moment.

There are songs that you hear for the first time and fall in love instantly - this is one of them.

My personal song of the year 2024!

Starting with pastoral church bells in the background which are gently accompanied by a gorgeous piano chord progression. Just listening to this intro alone awakens the faint idea that this song will be something really special. But it's the angelic choir singing that gives the track its real charm, creating that certain lovely aura of nostaligia that will bring tears to the eyes of even the toughest of men. If I had to come up with a song that would condense all the happy moments of my life into four and a half minutes, it would sound exactly like this evocative masterpiece.

Besides the grand finale, my personal favorite moment of the song is at about 02:28, where you are suddenly hit by a bass drum, accompanied by some kind of distorted harmonica sound. You find yourself in one of those fascinating moments and you know for sure that the great quality of MGMT really never changes.

My personal favorite from their new album.

In the last third you fall in love with this song forever. The mood shifts into a sudden calm, into an unexpected dreamlike world of love where, accompanied by the tender vocals, you wonder if you could stay in this world forever. “But you can't ask a stranger things like that”.

My personal song of the year 2023!

“I think things have always been crap, it’s just that when I was a child, the future seemed exciting. Now I’m an adult, the future seems terrifying. And I would like to go back to a time when the future seemed optimistic. That, as much as anything, is the core of what I’m getting at. I’m nostalgic for an optimistic future.”

— Gordon Chapman-Fox