The Phoenix Foundation Give Up Your Dreams on Colored LP + Download
First Pressing on Colored Vinyl
Colored Copies Are Limited / Call To Confirm Colored Copies Are Still Available
New Zealand’s The Phoenix Foundation return with their new and sixth studio album Give Up Your Dreams. It’s a shrewd and vibrant reminder that in The Phoenix Foundation’s gloriously absurd world of Technicolour pop, it’s the challenges you set yourself that reap the greatest rewards. “Give Up Your Dreams could sound like a defeat but it represents something quite defiant, joyous and celebratory,” exclaims co-frontman Samuel Scott of the record’s infectious rhythmic driven sound and optimistic feel.
Channeling previous album Fandango’s beauteous side, but this time fueled by a spit ball of irrepressible energy, Give Up Your Dreams feels like the band’s most contemporary offering yet. With the new addition of drummer Chris O’Connor, the album was written taking its lead from the rhythm section for the very first time; paving the way for an all new creative process. “I was convinced we had to have a different sounding record,” explains Scott’s counterpart singer/guitarist Lukasz Buda. “So we completely removed any trace of acoustic guitar. It was important to leave room for the band to take it somewhere else and make way for a new vitality.”
Thematically and lyrically the group typically took inspiration from various of sources. The dazzling title-track is a frank deglamourization of life on the road spurred on by a conversation with dear friend, collaborator, and fellow New Zealander Lawrence Arabia. The energetic "Mountain" is the ultimate counterpoint; an afro-kraut groove with layers of Television-inspired guitars and dreamscapes about the 'money men' controlling the world. "Playing Dead" nearly didn’t make it further than the cutting room floor but was revived thanks to the photographs in a 1950s Time Life essay on the Ona people of Tierra Del Fuego in southern Chile and their ghost rituals.
Elsewhere in "Jason" Luke sings about both the mother of his children and his ‘band wife’ (Samuel Scott) being struck down with sciatica and being reliant on string painkillers to function, touching on the fear of ageing in the process. Album closer "Myth" was inspired by the writings of St. Isidore of Seville who in the 19th Century attempted to compile all human knowledge.