Album Review: Her Wallpaper Reverie by The Apples in stereo

Ruby, oh Ruby. She sits cross-legged on a rug in her room and watches the wallpaper slide. In her mind are the sorts of things dreamt by sea creatures. But the things she hears! Music that hasn't been made with such an air of vintage and heartfelt wist since America came down from the frantic high of the '60s and the outrageous trip of the '70s. No more Lucies in the skies, no more fields of strawberries; only Ruby walking alone through her wallpaper tracks with the ghosts of a faded age, shaking hands with Kinks, Beatles and Zombies. Outside her window, it is a normal world with birds and traffic, but Ruby lives in a music box, where the music is strung together with sturdy strumming, straightforward rhythm-bones and innocent voices on the cusp of corruption. She can hear little else than the tinkling and moaning of a hollow synthesizer that gets so lonely it would be frightening to anyone else. Her boyfriend calls to her, "Baby!" but she is deaf to his song. She is in a strange, sad world of impressions where the eyelids beat to a psychedelic beat. No one wants her to stop.

The Apples in stereo come from Denver's low-fi indie-pop Elephant 6 collective (including Olivia Tremor Control and Neutral Milk Hotel). Out June 8.