New Video: The Melancholic Visuals and Sounds of WILDHART’s “We Made Up A Dream”

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Gothenburg, Sweden-based indie electro pop trio WILDHART, and with the release of “Stuck In A Second,” the trio comprised of  Ylva Homdahl (vocals), Kiwi Berg (synths) and Josefin Runsteen (drums) quickly developed a reputation across Sweden and the blogosphere for an atmospheric synth-based sound that has been compared favorably to the likes of Niki and the DoveLittle Dragonthe xx and London Grammar.The following single “Fantasy” was a  hazier, much more delicate song that has the act pairing layers of shimmering and twinkling synths, undulating and swirling electronics, and finger snap led percussion with Homdahl’s achingly plaintive and tender vocals to create a sound that evokes both a cold, feverish sweat — and of a newly stirring and soon-to-be insistent desire that becomes more and more obsessive. And as a result, the song’s narrator possesses a desperate and unshakable carnal need. Honestly, that shouldn’t be terribly surprising as WILDHART’s Holmdahl has explained of the song “‘Fantasy’ is a sensual and honest song about being attracted to someone, a person you had a dream about. A hot dream. You know that feeling when you have one of those, and it sticks to your mind like glue, making you to start to fantasize about a person an unreasonable amount.”

“We Made Up A Dream,” the third and latest track off the band’s soon-to-be released debut EP1 has the trio pairing undulating synths, propulsive drum programming and clanking and banging percussion and trippy melodic passages with Holmdahl’s tender and aching vocals in a sparse and slow-burning, melancholic song “about the dreams within our hearts, the most vulnerable parts of our bodies that we try to hide by the fear of letting it be disclosed in reality,” as the band explained in press notes. As a result, the song possesses an underlying sense of regret over the unfulfilled — and in turn, over how life can interfere with your deepest hopes and dreams by introducing uneasy compromises.

The recently released music video features a young mother and toddler goofing off in what appears to be a very Swedish housing development, shot with grainy VHS tape in a relatively recent past — from the clothing and haircuts, it looks like it may be roughly 1987 or so — and the video emphasizes the sensation of dreams being held tight to the vest and of a profound lack of fulfillment, as though the people in the video want more and just don’t quite know how to go about that.