That This is Gap Dream begins with a shrieking, pulsating tone like a sped-up busy signal is perhaps significant. Gabe Fulvimar’s insistence on affecting noises in far-reaching aural avenues is sometimes confusing, even when it sounds good. Opening a supposedly cathartic third record with a space-y chillwave instrumental in “Greater Find” is risky, sure, but the sentiment blends right in with Fulvimar’s M.O. of kitchen-sink production. Besides, “Greater Find” gives way to the real centerpiece of the album—an unavoidably dark veil of songcraft, which is first heard in the creepy electro corners of “Rock and Roll.”
In this tune, Fulvimar dials up the reverbed vocals and dials in an 8-bit horror-game progression that yields eerie results while singing “It’s been a long time since I lost control on an open road/It’s been a long time since I went outside and went out of my mind.” A sparse tinkling of keys and the faint squall of guitar feedback provides limited respite from the otherwise chip-tune-owing instrumental (the result of Fulvimar’s sampling of Super Nintendo sounds). It’s this kind of song that lends credence to the existential crisis Fulvimar was purportedly experiencing while writing This is Gap Dream. You can sense the solitude and fear in his warbling slacker-rock epics, and the solitude went beyond sheer internal turmoil: Fulvimar also played every instrument on the album.
Sure, a dark pall is certainly cast over much of the record, but you wouldn’t know it by the choice of lead single “College Music,” a Lou Reed-inspired rocker replete with simple drums and a jangly little guitar accompaniment, with Fulvimar’s full-bodied harmonic flourishes leading the charge. It’s a bit of a ruse, sonically, even if the song is basically about robots taking over all human tasks, which is actually pretty depressing depending on what type of human you are.