“The return of storied Southern Gothic electronic entity Telefon Tel Aviv is as unexpected as it is impressive. Their three inuential albums of the 2000sFahrenheit Fair Enough, Map Of What Is Effortless, and Immolate Yourselfcharted an increasingly turbulent and textured vision of post-IDM synthetic songcraft, until the sudden passing of founding member Charlie Cooper in 2009 ceased the project, presumably forever.

During the decade since, co-founder Josh Eustis has performed with, produced, mixed, and mastered countless artists, from high-prole institutions (Nine Inch Nails, Puscifer, Apparat) to underground xtures (Belong, Vatican Shadow, Drab Majesty, Tropic Of Cancer), in addition to his own solo and collaborative work in Sons Of Magdalene and Second Woman. But years of reection and processing gradually seeded in him a desire to revive TTA and venture a fourth full-length, in the spirit of what they started: Dreams Are Not Enough.

From the shuddering software oscillations of the opening piece, I dream of it often, the classic Telefon palette of hyper-modern sound design and smoky nocturnal emotion feels vividly revitalized. The songs stand apart but belong together, threading a veiled narrative of loss, anger, and agethe crumbling of constancies, shifting sands slipping through the hourglass.

The albums fragmented track titles relate a recurring dream thats haunted Eustis since childhood, based on a murky incident during a family vacation to a remote Alabama coastline when he was eight. In the dream he swims alone through the waves past the sandbar to where the ocean shelf abruptly drops away into a gradient of innite darkness; awed, he peers into the depths and sees himself down at the bottom, mouth open and eyes blank, oating motionless like a corpse.

An undercurrent of eerie melancholy ows through the album, manifested in shivering widescreen meditations, depressive twilit modern pop, and devotional industrial abstractions. Melodies emerge and evaporate; rhythms lock in step then fracture and fade; centers cannot hold.

A younger version of myself deftly encapsulates the unique poignancy and shadowplay of this TTA iteration, shuffling on a hypnotic rhythm with the swing of backwards looping tape as Eustis croons a lost, liminal lament about waiting in line and the passing of time. Standing at the bottom of the ocean sinks even more minimal, subliminal electricity crossfading into skeletal soul built from ghostly bass, smeared chords, and naked voice, before ebbing away in a cyber-screwed downtempo outro.

Eustis speaks of wanting Dreams Are Not Enough to evoke a sense of emptiness, of cutting unnecessary elements from each mix, to convey this as a solitary workframing an absence. A document as much of whats not there as what remains.