Dreamstate

Dreamstate’s final comedown offers a meditative denouement, chasing away the album’s airy warmth with cold reality. Yet, what comes out is not just uncertainty but possibility. That is what makes Dreamstate ultimately feel so potent. It captures dance music’s sheer kinetic high, but also the emotive undercurrents that make it so affecting.

On her latest album, the bewitching Dreamstate, Kelly Lee Owens is back from the future and laser-focused on the now. Even in its most insular moments, this is an album that feels like euphoric celebration after euphoric celebration.

As for the vocals, this time they’re far more confident and nearly omnipresent—from cosmic whispers on the title track “Dreamstate” and murmurs on “Sunshine” to simultaneously soothing and piercing chants on “Ballad (In the End)” and enchanting delivery on the verge of Bon Iver on the almost twangy closing ballad “Trust and Desire”, also notable for the strings of Raven Bush, Kate Bush’s nephew.

There are writing collaborations with the likes of the Chemical Brothers on the beautifully woozy and remarkably tender “Ballad (The End)”, which further serves to hit home the increasing breadth, scope and versatility Owens possesses in her far-reaching electronic compositions. [Nov 2024, p.41]

As Dreamstate progresses, it becomes apparent that Owens is just deploying her idiosyncrasies more subtly than before. The results feel pop-facing without resorting to pop-dance cliches.

Owens has created a leaner and more direct record that uses ultra-crisp and gleamingly bright production to find a whole new way to dream.