- Welcome to Daytrotter
- Ghost
- Not Sure
- Broke Haircut
- Patonic Lovers
The directions that Night Manager take us are up and over, sideways and into the creamy skies. We can feel the sudden drops in altitude, all while keeping us hanging mostly safe in the air, the way we always tend to feel when we’re strapped into our airplane seats, bashing through patches of turbulence. We resign ourselves to believing that we’re in good and capable hands and whatever is going to happen 30,000 feet up is going to happen whether we are or not. We could be lucky or unlucky, but it’s all just a crapshoot and the forces that be will take us down if that’s what they’re intending and conspiring to do.
The Brooklyn, New York, band has a knack for taking us into the kinds of spaces that we can feel in the bottoms of our stomach. Most of the time, they’re somewhat spacy and barely there, but then the bottom drops out and the sensation rips through our veins and makes our muscles clench. It’s not that the bottom’s even dropping out. They don’t do that to you. They make you anticipate it. They let you feel it yourself, leading you there, but never taking you all the way. You’re suspicious though and rightly so. You’re having trouble not looking down, though everyone’s telling you, “Whatever you do, don’t look down.” You look down.