Due largely to my affinity for the music of the time, I’m prone to overly romanticize positive and socially open-minded philosophies of the 60s and 70s. The lustful exploration for purpose, truth, and meaning seemed completely in sync with the era's music in a way that seems extremely rare (nigh unattainable) today. And although Real Estate aren't Occupying Wall Street or raising social awareness, their music feels like today's emblematic equivalent to past eras.

A large portion of Real Estate's allure lies in their self-awareness. They seem entirely at peace and satisfied in their own skin, a feat in itself, and amazingly inspire similar feelings by way of their music. Optimism burbles beneath a mosaic of genres and technical prowess. On stage they're charmingly casual; they neither smile in awe nor flippantly dismiss the moment.

Days
finds Real Estate’s songwriting abilities maturing, offering songs that approach and reference the past with refreshing thoughtfulness. Rather than honing in exclusively on nostalgia, the songs employ an easy, fluid perception of time that more accurately paints a universally relatable situation. "Green Aisles" is a perfect illustration of this strength; the song’s meandering melody and and poetic lyrics offer a near-comprehensive retrospective of suburban youth: "All those wasted miles/ All those aimless drives through green aisles/ Our careless lifestyle, it was not so unwise/ The houses were humming all through the night/ The winter was coming but that was all right."



Fluidity is integral to Real Estate's aesthetic; Days passes without much overt stylistic punctuation. "Kinder Blumen", "Out Of Tune" and album closer “All The Same” sound nonchalant, but furtively build instrumental textures that eventually blossom into full-on grooves. Pop undertones and natural imagery lace playfully competitive guitars throughout the album, leaving their mark well past "All The Same"'s locomotive-like breakdown.



One of Real Estate’s most endearing aspects is the band’s ability to simultaneously inspire wanderlust while conveying a sense of contentedness towards the past. Being 20 years old, I can only vicariously tap into the musical heyday of the 60s and 70s. Growing up, I rifled through albums from my mom's collection. Somewhere down the road, I can envision Days as an album I’ll pass down to someone. They'll be as receptive as I was.