I unashamedly danced in my car at seven in the morning today, granola in my lap, bass way too strong for this early in the morning, to COIN’s dreamy tracks from their newest album, Dreamland. 

It was a lovely way to start the morning. 

“Into My Arms” was the track that I was, yes, bumping, to, and right away I noticed a sense of familiarity to it—had I heard this song before? No, impossible. The album was just released yesterday, and this song wasn’t a single released beforehand. 

As I continued dancing, letting the nostalgia overtake me, I realized I really had heard this before. 

I heard it live a few months ago at their concert. After putting the pieces together, I brushed away that gust of familiarity and absolutely vibed to a truly catchy song. The chorus is absolutely unbelievable—it’s impossible for even the most sedentary person to simply sit still during it. It’s upbeat, it’s pop-inspired, and it’s just dreamy. 

Every single song from this album has a jarring delicacy to it. Each song fits the dreamy theme of the title with airy instrumentals and light lyrics and vocals, but the bass and guitar provide a constant underlying element of cracked movement. 

“Dreamland Sequence,” for example, is a synth-heavy song with breezy vocals and violin, yet the foundation—the dark bass—provides that glaring dynamic. It’s the epitome of the album — if the title alone didn’t reveal that already. 

“Babe Ruth” is my favorite track from the album and I know exactly why: the little whistles, the “oooh” harmonies, the bass riffs, and the simply catchy tune. That is my recipe for a good song, and “Babe Ruth” meets all those requirements perfectly. 

“Let It All Out (10:05),” “Youuu,” “Valentine,” “I Want It All,” “Simple Romance,” “Crash My Car,” and “Cemetery” are half of the album’s songs, all previously released as either singles or in previous albums. I’m not sure why they included old songs in their 2020 album, but I was dancing, nonetheless. 

“Valentine,” a more recent single release—on Valentine’s Day, to be specific—has some of the same elements as “Babe Ruth,” which is why I love it so much. I have driven down Cascade to this song playing as loud as my car will handle probably ten times in the span of a week. It’s a feeling that I honestly do not know how to describe; the song is descriptor enough, I think. 

“Nobody’s Baby,” one of the seven songs that wasn’t previously released, is a song I imagine myself to drive down Cascade to in order to feel this indescribable feeling of teenage living: going to concerts in churches on Sunday, getting milkshakes on school nights, having the cute car wash guy show you how to put your car in neutral—the cute little things that make up my life right now. 

COIN produces music that just makes me feel good, and it’s because every single song is catchy, yet dreamy, yet jarring, yet gentle, yet dance-able. There’s really nothing like their music, and there is nothing like this album. 

I wouldn’t want to dance in my car to any other artist, or any other album, for that matter. Dreamland is the best way to start a morning, the best way to end the day, and the best way to describe every moment in between.