Voxtrot
Dreamers in Exile
Cult Hero Records
Apropos of… well, everything related to the reunited Voxtrot, the title to their euphoric comeback album, Dreamers in Exile, unabashedly advertises the romantic, indie-pop idealism bursting from its heart. “I know you love a man who comes fighting back,” is not just a line from the deliriously catchy “Fighting Back.” Rather, it’s a fist-pumping rallying cry for the endearing earnestness of Voxtrot, making theirs a comeback story worth rooting for.
Kicking up a fuss in the 2000s, Voxtrot had its Billboard chart moments before cashing out in 2010. They got back together in 2022, reviving a heady coming-of-age campaign of clean, buoyant, guitar-centric sound and hooky immediacy, stealing some jangly C86 sunshine and joining the Teenage Fanclub bandwagon. Among the best and brightest of Voxtrot’s newest offerings, though, is the excitable and catchy title track, a rush of whirling, heavenly synth-pop and youthful wonder, much like that of the galvanizing “Esprit de Coeur,” with its swathes of bittersweet strings and a soaring, sighing chorus begging OMD not to leave.
If the thrilling, emo urgency of “Fighting Back” wrestles with the urge to chase power and money, determined to leave childish things behind, then “New World Romance” slips into lovely melodic calm and exquisite bloom, rejecting “the straight world” and corporate submission to breathe in the world’s beauty and live fully, surrounded by contemporary walls of sound. Fuzzy and crunchy, the rousing “Rock & Roll Jesus” throws punches of gnarly, sardonic power-pop, angrily exclaiming, “I’m not your puppet / I’m not your good boy / I have lust, and I have rage,” infectiously skewering celebrity culture and clout-chasing cynicism in a glorious, cacophonous meltdown of Cursive proportions. Lyricist Ramesh Srivastava has something to say, and usually does so with fiery, literary panache.
Redemption and rebirth are the stuff of “Another Fire,” the sweeping, heartfelt opener of rubbery ‘80s pop that sets the course for Dreamers in Exile, which ends with “Babylone,” a song that somehow manages to marry and modernize the classic, starlit ‘50s teenage swoon of Dion with the elegance of Burt Bacharach, sweetened by honeyed horns and more strings.
It’s not hyperbole to say Dreamers in Exile is a tour de force of songwriting brilliance, energetically executed and filled with a transcendent, life-affirming belief that even though Voxtrot doesn’t have all the answers, the search for truth and meaning is not a lost cause. It might just be the thing that keeps them going.
