- Rabit gathers friends from across the musical spectrum—including John Beltran and Eartheater—for an LP of exquisite electronics that explores the human condition.
- "I don't want to be this sensitive," Eric Burton, AKA Rabit, recalls telling his mum in a 2015 interview. It was after he'd had a rough year with a break-up, his pet dying and a hurricane hitting his house. But she told him to see it as a positive—that he could use his sensitive side—which is something that "not a lot of people have." The Houston-based musician seems to have taken his mum's advice on board for What Dreams May Come, an experimental dream pop album that is, at turns, volatile, expressive and brilliantly human.
In the wake of his debut record, Communion, Burton had a bittersweet relationship with music. Boxed in as a grime producer following his first few EPs, he told Fact that he was no longer interested in making "cool sounds" for the sake of it, and he sounded bored talking to The Quietus about the academia that surrounds electronic music and its obsession with hardware. This ambivalence came out in his later work as he tried his darndest to skirt round it all. The ambient sound collage of Life After Death was like a long trudge through limbo, and on Les Fleurs Du Mal, he sometimes cut songs short just as they started to build into something melodic. What Dreams May Come is noticeably more open, sometimes even at ease, partly because of the people that come together to make it—replacing a singular artistic vision with a collective one.
As founder of the Texas label Halcyon Veil, Burton's friendship circle is as diverse as it is far-reaching, and here its Addams Family of musicians and non-musicians come together for their mother goose. Ledef and Bobby Britton of queer ballroom collective House Of Kenzo feature in two of the album's music videos, while Brexxitt adorns the album cover in carnival attire. Past collaborators, like beatmaker Croww, film composer Maxwell Sterling and vocalist Cecilia all contribute as well, along with other LGBTQ+ icons and friends.
Two of these other friends, Boochie and Lagniappe, create some of the most affecting moments on the album with voice notes. "It looked like some Harry Potter wand," laughs Lagniappe on "The Growth (Interlude)" as she tells of her failed attempt at rolling a blunt to impress her crush. It's a funny and cute analogy of learning: silly mistakes like this one are all part and parcel of it. "Georgia Boy (Interlude)" is more pointed. It begins with one of Burton's friends stating that they have HIV, toying with the acronym's pronunciation. But the mood sours as they attack the failures of the US healthcare system, their speech growing more ardent with every word and resonating with the candidness of a Ken Loach film.
This emotional conflict is echoed in the makeup of the music. Burton's chopped-up, DJ Screw-inspired beats provide a wonky backbone for guests to smooth out with their own live acoustics. Shimmering strings from Sterling, wistful guitar notes from CURL collective member TONE and celestial singing from Eartheater strike a Lotic-like balance between tender and abrasive on "Angelica"s brooding dream pop. On "Safe," jagged pads nag at the undulating strings, like a trance tune with a medieval edge. And the trip-hop of "Georgia Boy Instrumental" shines thanks to the way the heartfelt and hoarse cello slopes through an artillery of kick drums. It's these contrasts that bless the album with its wonderfully rugged and imperfect form.
What Dreams May Come is more than just an album in that regard. It's both a text and an audio missive that wrestles with what it means to be human, to be one walking contradiction struggling to make sense of everything whilst trying to connect with others. Unlike with his last two LPs, Burton doesn't sound like he's fighting against anything here, or like he's necessarily trying to do something different. Instead he's simply tuned into what makes him who he is—his love of chopped-and-screwed beats and the people around him—and married them together to make a truly sincere and affecting paean to humanity.
Tracklist01. No Ceiling feat. Embaci
02. Georgia Boy (Instrumental) feat. Croww
03. Angelica feat. Eartheater
04. The Growth Interlude feat. Lagniappe
05. Epiphany feat. Lauren Auder, John Beltran, Baby Blue
06. Safe
07. Bad Dreams feat. SALEM
08. No Air feat. Colin Self
09. TRU feat. Croww
10. Georgia Boy Interlude feat. Boochie
11. New Days feat. :3LON
12. Requiem feat. Embaci
13. Reprise feat. John Beltran & JG Thirlwell