Tropical Geometry’s “Luck Mountain” arrives as their first fully realized document on vinyl, loaded with songs and instrumentals, that seem to create an entire universe of its own. Everything in Tropical Geometry’s colorful world is approachable, but it is widely spread on a curious path, leading the listener down all manner of Tropicalia’s bliss and European pop’s most emotional moments. These musical echoes, like residues of some imaginary time travel, reveal a maze of innocence, trapping any brave voyager into a weird, but somehow familiar, nostalgic journey.

A variety of heavenly organ drones, strange robotic oscillations, hypnotic vocals, static rhythms perfect for cocktail party swinging, mini interrupting synthetic screams, and lazy campfire auras of old cassette excavations makes this a perfect record that imagines a world that either never existed or one that explodes like a bubble into a thin layer beyond imagination. Blissful and airy, there’s not one note out of space, not one sound to cause any undue alarm. Somehow, “Luck Mountain” builds its character based on how a romantic future may have looked in the past, but it searches out space mysteries and sonic melodies into a dusty wardrobe, where a playful childhood remains hidden.