Treefight For Sunlight’s bio compares the Danish pop group’s sound to sunshine—making reference to the band’s debut album, A Collection Of Vibrations For Your Skull, as a bottling up of said sunshine into “ten pop symphonies.” The description is really quite accurate as each track of A Collection Of Vibrations For Your Skull feels like a gentle heat ray. But what the bio description is lacking is that the warm beams grow with each track, becoming explosions of happy, nature-oriented psychedelic pop that bring to mind images of sprawling meadows in mid-summer.
Starting slowly with “A Dream Before Sleep,” Treefight For Sunlight’s three vocalists—Christian Rohde Lindinger (bass), Morten Winther Nielsen (guitar) and Mathias Sørensen (drums)—spout soft, harmonious oohs and ahhs that mesh well with the simple bouncing string melody as a sprightly, looping keyboard riff from fourth member Niels Kirk is added into the mix. The opener dreamily drifts into “You And The New World,” which continues the bright, summery theme with an accented piano melody, more floating vocal harmonies, light cymbals and a peppy, clapping beat. Energetic, layered tracks like “The Universe Is A Woman” have the same exuberance and catchy flourishes of psych-pop as those by groups like Animal Collective, if not a bit more easily digestible.
An infectious guitar melody and pops of vibraphone or glockenspiel start “Facing The Sun,” the debut single off of the album. Proclaiming that “everything and everyone should be facing the sun,” Treefight For Sunlight continues its obvious love for the giant fireball. Short bouts of piano and vocals on “Rain Air” give way to an ecstatic mix of drums and soaring harmonies during the chorus. “Tambourhinoceros Jam” rattles through the second half of the album like a humid thunderstorm with a little less than two minutes of rumbling instrumental crescendos. A heartbeat rhythm introduces the album’s last and longest track, “Time Stretcher.” Slower paced, with more echoing vocals and brushes of uneasy guitar, “Time Stretcher” finally lets the sun set, so to speak, as glimmers of a darker vibe end the album with the words “time is never-ending/Slowly I’m descending.”