Just because I slowly drifted off into sleep during my first run-through of Cinnamon Chasers’ debut EP A Million Miles from Home
doesn’t mean that it was boring. There were several factors that
contributed to this descent into the world of dreams: first of all, it
was half past one o’clock in the morning, and second of all, the subtle
mix of acoustic guitar and buoyant synths on “Candle Lights” had no
trouble easing my mind into a detailed fantasy dreamscape.
Don’t let this seeming laziness cast doubt on my reviewing
capabilities. Falling asleep during my premier listen gave me a visual,
visceral feel of A Million Miles from Here unattainable by a conscious,
sober mind. The poppy beats and dominant riffs of “Luv Deluxe” created
images of falling, at once pleasant and urgent, mingled with a pink
aura of lovely satisfaction. As the song ushered in the darker “Modern
Love,” my fall lurched into more mysterious depths, which only the airy
“Ray of Sun” could lift me out of.
While the moods varied on the surface, each song adhered to the
universal paradigm of falling, and I became lost in Cinnamon Chasers’
world of fantasy, my drop guided only by the rhythms of the music and
the surreal landscapes it conjured. Just to be sure that this was a
manifestation of the music and not of the manic mind, I decided to give
A Million Miles from Home a few active listens just in case.
Lo and behold! Cinnamon Chasers is equally effective in the real
world as the fantasy land it inspires within the unconscious. The
change in moods between “Luv Deluxe” and “Modern Love” that I explored
in my dream can now fully be appreciated in its full glory as a
critique of ideal and contemporary romance. The dark, jagged synth
riffs in “Adored” are inspired and tangible in their own right, and the
song itself is worthy of comparison to the best songs by genre
behemoths The Knife.
Most outstanding is “Jetstreams,” a song with themes and sounds so
epic that it nearly defies all definition that spares the use of
hyperbolic metaphor. It is, essentially, a veritable laser light show
for the ears, driven by a pulsating bass line. The song’s
larger-than-life quality, coupled with distant echoing vocals, makes
“Jetstreams” as colorful in the waking world as it is in the sleeping.
Every aspect of A Million Miles from Home has an expertly
crafted balance that prevents it from approaching any unsavory
extremes. A balance of elevated anthems such as “Jetstreams” and
chillout tunes like “Candle Lights” prevents the album from becoming
too overreaching or tedious, respectively. Aggressive synth lines and
ebullient laser effects are accompanied by acoustic guitar and soothing
textural melodies throughout the album. Themes are also in equilibrium,
with the sympathetic “White Flag” and “Your Heart isn’t Open Anymore”
contrasting the paranoia-tinged “I Like to Watch You” and vaguely
sinister “Adored.”
Russ Davies, the man behind the pseudonym, lends his ethereal voice
to most of the tracks, breathing a refreshing taste of humanity over
the generally simple electronic beats. These beats, while naturally
repetitive, are never repetitious. No, there is nothing boring about A
Million Miles from Here. On the contrary, the ever-shifting moods and
textures were simply too entrancing, and they sucked me in like a
dinghy in a whirlpool. And though I fell asleep, the music did not
cease, it just strengthened. After all, this is the stuff that dreams
are made of.
Rating: 9.5/10