Great Lake Swimmers

Using one recording trick for an entire album usually grates the listeners’ nerves well before the final note is struck. But placing Toronto’s Tony Dekker inside an abandoned silo, creating a naturally boomy echo chamber, is the perfect environment for his ghostly voice and haunting songs. Dekker’s lyrics paint him as the prototypical wanderer, searching for a sense of security and home wherever it may be: at sea, underground, watching silent movies, in wide open spaces, crippled by urban claustrophobia. His music is a grounding force, a warm blanket, and a whole bunch of other touchy-feelies without having to wallow in the maudlin or the tepidly therapeutic. This will either help lift you out of your winter depression or keep you crying all summer long. Either way, Dekker’s emotional soundscapes make this an unforgettable debut album.