Crumb play in the soft static waves of dreampop, gliding through wistful, airy melodies as if nothing bad has ever happened. They’ve only released a single self-titled three song EP thus far, but you’d never guess it. Despite their youth, Crumb already have the secure sense of musical identity that veteran bands spend years achieving. Their instruments mesh into a sound that is more than the sum of its parts. The percussion and bass keep the music active and bouncy, while frontwoman Lila Ramani lazily daydreams melodies with her effect-laden guitar and enchantress voice in the vein of Lana Del Rey.
Crumb’s music undulates in a meditative lullaby that crawls up and down scales. Notes are rarely spaced far apart; instead, they slide smoothly from one to another, reaching pensive crests and slow-motion free-falls so as not to break the trance. Even the cymbals sound restrained and fizzle into the background. Despite the relative lack of sharp edges to their sound, Crumb uses the end of “Bones” and “Vinta” to experiment with dissonance and to show off their talents. After a couple reverb-y, psychedelic minutes, “Bones” explodes with an unexpected (but very welcome) saxophone solo that sounds perfectly at home in their sound. An oddly angular and dissonant solo in the second half of “Vinta” heralds the band’s foray into avant-garde territory, flirting with the discordant cacophony of noise in its final moments. These unexpected flourishes give the EP a refreshingly experimental tinge that keeps the listener on their toes.
In less than twelve minutes, Crumb manages to concretely establish their musical identity and create some achingly beautiful music. Take a listen and dream along with me.