It is easy to pin the blame on the weather: there is the sunny disposition of psychedelic guitar sounds, idle hours spent fuelling our faraway fantasies and daydreams, breezy tunes evoking fond memories of times past, and cool late night writings encouraged by warm mugs of hot chocolate.
Add in a dash of yellow daisies, blue butterflies chasing each other across green rolling hills, and the occasional cotton-white rabbit-shaped clouds, and you are almost good to go.
But in truth, the album really does give more than enough reasons for you to do nothing else other than just lie back heavily with a wistful sigh, with your hands carefully placed behind your head, and just let it all wash over you like the summer rain. It becomes a sort of a balm – a musical healing wonder if you will – that will have you emerge rejuvenated soon after the clouds have parted, leaving a hopeful sliver of the sun to shine through.
So it might still be somewhat premature to declare it as another personal High Violet or Sky Blue Sky, but that is what Real Estate’s Days is increasingly becoming to me.
Let it be.