Dog in the Snow - Vanishing Lands (Bella Union)

Nightmares of a ruined dreamland inspire Brighton’s psychic popster Dog in the Snow on her second album, Vanishing Lands

Helen Ganya Brown first came to notice as Dog in the Snow with her 2017 debut effort Consume Me. A sensory work of art, it offered cyber pop and etheric ballads of real refinement. Then there was Brown’s almost ceremonial singing voice; a spiritual and sonic whirlwind that spoke of great tenderness too. Lyrically she also proved a revelation, both in tune with her times yet open to more ancient sources. “Real life against my will, but dreaming is okay,” she sang on the Druidic disco of “Magic”, sounding not unlike one Björk Guðmundsdóttir.

Brown’s second record, Vanishing Lands, takes these previous elements and finds them a more conceptual home. Written after a period of dark dreams, the songs are given shape and depth by hooky synth motifs, ritualistic rhythms and phased guitar patterns. It’s a case of software meets the sacred, as Brown enters a dreamlike realm of grayscale landscapes and fabular journeys. Some clear reference points might be Bat for Lashes, His Name Is Alive, Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith and Jane Weaver, but thoughts could also wander to early Jane Siberry, Beth Gibbons and Kate Bush’s “The Ninth Wave”.

Vanishing Lands also proves that pop records can have a pagan heart without chucking in minor-key choral-folk strains. For sure its creator is wearing a mythic mask, but Brown’s work comes aided by intelligent machines that enhance her wild intellect. Such contrasts are found in the music, where things flick quickly from noirish to dayglo, like on the opening cut “Light”. As grim staccato synths give way to bouncy chords, Brown croons, “I came to slowly / Came to the light moving / You held out your hand / Showed me other lands”. Her voice further spooks you out on the startling trance-dance of “Bloom”, where the singer sounds laden with trauma.

Scuzzy chord pulsings on “Dual Terror” invite the refrain “I hold on to my double” which is repeated like a protective spell. “Monochrome” then has freshly fizzed keyboards and the curious couplet, “Oh, where the streets were converging / I shot the beast that I always knew”. By now it seems Brown is a willing traveller on this “consensual hallucination” to adapt a phrase from William Gibson. Partly afraid, yet desirous of seeing more, we continue with her. “This Only City” is all neo-prog grandeur amid Brown’s gothic sighs, whilst “Roses” goes for simple piano chords and a melody that drips with desire.

Two tracks also draw on sounds that feel pulled from some frowzy attic. “Icaria” has muffled boom-beats under its carnal chorus, then musty keyboard riffs blow around the giddy melody of “Gold”.

The narrative is given a magical send-off with two remarkable pieces. “Fall Empire” calls up rattling drums and a glammy backdrop, wherein Brown summons the eco mantra, “If you destroy this land / You will invite disaster”. On her previous album she likewise declared, “I won’t have a child / Until you show me sustainability”. Even better is the twinkling space-rock of “Dark” with its ecstatic refrain, “I will become your blood / Dark… Dark… Obscura”. Here the dreamer finally awakes, transformed by experience and reborn into reality.

Vanishing Lands is a world that exists both everywhere and nowhere at once. An album of gorgeous delirium, it fights through darkness to an exalted state.

doginthesnow.bandcamp.com