Nap Eyes have a superpower of stretching time like its playdough, then circling it back onto itself like an overfed Ouroubourous. The lyrics of every song on the Halifax natives’ fourth album, Snapshot of a Beginner, should be printed in a pop-up book of poetry, its pages coloured in with every waxy crayon Crayola ever made.
Their sound, as usual, is effortlessly low-key, but especially hi-fi, creating a polished, ambling landscape for frontman Nigel Chapman’s pragmatism. Drop in to the gentle enervation of “So Tired,” but step up into the bubbling “Primordial Soup.”
An ironic meditation on the beauty and transcendence of modern life is “Mark Zuckerberg,” which ends on a note that will set you sail into the next dimension. Get strung out on “Real Thoughts” and let the more grown-up, nuanced Puff The Magic Dragon vibes of “Dark Link” provide more hope than the former.
There is a dichotomy here; it digs at the lazy-hustle-lazy-doubtful-curious orbit of the zeitgeist, gets ensnared in echoey guitar strings that seem to wait up for you, wherever you are. The cohesive nature of Nap Eyes’ Snapshot peeks at the sixth dimension through windows of daily banalities. This is their magic.