By HANNAH ELLIOTT, Robinson High

I was in the car going through the Callahan Tunnel after leaving the Boston Airport when I first heard Youth Lagoon. I couldn’t see the end of the tunnel, I didn’t know where we going and all I saw was purple light. The local college radio station was playing Daydream from Youth Lagoon’s first album. Something about the intimacy and depth seemed to envelop me in a feeling I had never experienced with music before.

Youth Lagoon’s first album, Year of Hibernation, brought a new level of wisdom and psychological intensity to indie-pop, but in a very modest way. It sounds like the albums were recorded in Trevor Powers’ bedroom in Boise, Idaho. The nostalgia that oozes from each song creates a sense of closeness. This aspect is the reason their music is unique, and important to me, because it somehow relates exactly to me. For the four minutes the song is playing loudly in my ears, I can’t think about anything else.

Wondrous Bughouse, the second brainchild of Powers, keeps the momentum and elaborates on the psychological freakiness of life. It puts a quirky focus on such things as mortality, not making fun  but taking an approach that is not obnoxiously emotional. The hook in Dropla is the line “you’ll never die,” repeated over and over. Once you get over the creepiness, you realize that is why you like the song. Throughout, all of a sudden there would be a few words in a line that I heard really clearly. These standout lyrics created the wistful vibe I know and love, and what will make new listeners interested, too.

I could go on contemplating the meaning and epicness of Youth Lagoon, but no amount of speculation and praise could do as much as hearing it yourself. Don’t listen to Wondrous Bughouse without earphones or a completely tricked-out sound system: You won’t get the same effect. This band demands full attention.