Album Review: Still Dreaming by Soft Catch
Dreams can betray us. Blinding us from a clear path forward, distracting from our goals, or distorting reality just to seek what we truly desire. And this extends past mere aspiration. Our subconscious deceives us in our sleep, twisting past recollections, planting false memories, and altering our own emotions in ways we barely recognize. Of course, there’s a century’s work of psychoanalysis to contend with, exploring whether this is wish fulfillment, inner processing, or something far more abstract and surreal. But regardless of the interpretation, the fact remains: dreams can mislead, unsettle, and reshape our understanding of the world around us as well as inner selves. They blur time, blending the past and present; they merge emotions, linking fear and longing; and they even crack reality, making the imaginary feel tangible. This sensation seeps into waking life as well, manifesting in moments of déjà vu or eerie premonitions, fragments of dreams surfacing just enough to blur the line between memory and illusion, turning reality into an insoluble enigma.
This tension, this push-and-pull between dreaming and waking, clarity and illusion, all sits at the heart of Still Dreaming, the new record from Richmond quartet Soft Catch. Expansive in scope yet piercing in execution, it’s a salient record that leans into the weight of its emotion and sentiment without losing its intrepid musical sense. Across its four tracks, the record explores how precarious our concept of perception is: how easily memory can distort, how reality can shift recklessly, and how feelings of passion and anger, concern and desire, can all coaelsce into one hazy vision. The end result is a sonic case study on dreams, conveyed through gliding hooks, canny musicianship, and restless ambition that refuses to capitulate.
Soft Catch consists of Frank Roberts (vocals, guitar), Winston Sanders (guitar), Jorge “Dino” Andino (bass), and Jesse Marcus (drums), names fans of the Richmond music scene will remember from other memorable projects. Roberts and Marcus previously played together in Majjin Boo and its predecessor, CARDINAL, while Sanders has performed with Colpa Mia and, more recently, Jr. The band first emerged in 2023 with Sea Fear, introducing an emo-tinged power-pop sound. With Still Dreaming, they push beyond that foundation, heightening both emotion and intensity. It’s more expressive in every way: more pensive, more cerebral, more exuberant. Even on “Nothing When,” a split-part song that opens with a strong, jangly indie-pop groove reminiscent of Sea Fear, the music still feels weightier, fortified by a broader vision and deeper intent. Rather than being purely hook-driven, the melodies stretch and strain under the music’s gravity, shaping Still Dreaming into an immersive sound that resonates with alternative and indie fans while also maintaining a harder edge typically found in post-hardcore.
The song’s opening tracks, “Hotter One” and “Borderline,” best present this expansion, as well as the record’s underlying struggle with dreams. Forces of nature take center stage in both songs, but they materialize in contrasting ways. On “Hotter On,” where sweltering reverb pressure matches its title, Roberts looks to the heavens above for consolation and comfort: “Nobody knows me like the sun\ I felt a hotter one\ I let it swallow me up.” In “Borderline,” the record’s most infectious and cathartic offering, the gaze shifts downward, gripped with apprehension: “I hate the ocean\ It wants to kill me\ Not every fear’s irrational\ Is that anxiety?” Delivered through distinct tones, the two feel intrinsically linked, like a dream that feels inviting at first before contorting effortlessly into a nightmare.
Of course, these songs don’t exist solely within dreams, yet a lingering reverie haunts most verses, blurring the line between reality and the dreamworld in a way that embodies the EP’s title. On “Played Out,” this unfolds subtly, grappling with indecision while also suggesting that consciousness itself breeds calamity: “If I could I would stay\ Leave me in my wake\ If I could would stay\ It’s not the way it’s played out.” “Nothing When” takes this concept a step further, framing fractured trust within the album’s shifting soundscape. As the song transitions from its propulsive pace to a deliberate procession before collapsing inward, it hints at the breezy, carefree tone being an inner mirage: “Lately I don’t care\ I can’t believe myself\ Notice how I fell out\ I can’t believe myself.”
That song, that seeming anomaly in the tracklist, also points to a deeper thesis at its core that it confronts bluntly: “If I knew the plot\ Would I repeat it twice and really make it cost\ Three times as much as we already lost” The questioning, it seems, is futile here. Dreaming or not, we still fall into the same traps, doomed to play it all out again each time with greater stakes no matter the foresight we approach it with. Still Dreaming isn’t a record for easy answers though, but thankfully, it doesn’t need to. Instead, it thrives on this uncertainty, embracing it with fervor in each song so that it underscores its dire importance and hesitant grace. For Soft Catch, dreams aren’t an escape or a solution—they are an undeniable force, shaping, distorting, and ultimately defining our perception, whether or not we realize we’re still asleep.
Still Dreaming is available to stream now on all streaming platforms. To stay up-to-date on future releases and updates from Soft Catch, make sure to follow them on social media.
