On first listen, the shivers that ran down my spine, the visions that danced across the irises of my eyes, and the colours that morphed across my ceiling, assured me Thelightshines had transported me back to California, smack dab in the middle of the psychedelic heyday with their intoxicating lushly layered etherial jangling release Now The Sandman Sings.

The album floats waist deep in the dream-pop sensibilities that gave way to shimmering star filled nights along the San Francisco bay, where for an all too brief moment, we thought we could both save and change the world. Now 40 years out, Thelightshines have brought back that magic, parted the curtains, and allowed a big ol’ smiling moon to roll across the night sky to delight the senses, alter the subconscious, and conjure what’s laid sleeping in my heart for far to long.

There’s a complex simpleness to this music, making it almost impossible to grasp, like a hallucination hanging just out of reach, almost touchable, but not quite. Once over, the album feels like the distant memory of something you once knew, a space you once lived in, and a language you once spoke ... and impossible not to play again, if for no other reason, than to assure yourself that the music actually exists.

Review by Jenell Kesler