Pixey attempts to soar on Dreams, Pains & Paper Planes

Renowned for her colourful pop bops and breezy summer cuts, Pixey has found herself championing the rise of DIY dream-pop artists with her fresh takes on classic ‘00s sounds.

Despite being regarded and promoted as a ‘mini’ LP, Pixey’s debut record, Dreams, Pains & Paper Planes sits at a comfortable eight tracks long and is teeming with energy enough for a full release. Mini, by no means, connotes little, or small (much like her stage name may suggest), but instead Pixey delivers a project jam-packed with lush pop numbers and indie intonations. Preceded by a handful of well-received single releases, the LP finds itself placed on a pedestal, and despite starting off strong, falls slightly short of the mark.

The LP starts as it seemingly means to go on with “Recycled Paper Planes”. Presenting as summertime in a sunshine-filled package, Pixey pulls us into her trippy dreamscape with her sweet vocal melodies and deliciously infectious guitar licks. In a burst of colour and creativity, our heroine delivers a hazy introduction drenched in boppy sound effects that accentuate impressive vocals and poetically poetic lyrics. In a continuation of the upbeat funk, “I’m Just High” and “Come Around (Sunny Day)” sit as stand out tracks as they highlight Pixey’s impressive penmanship and ability to produce hooky guitar-lead numbers.

Despite an energetic trajectory that is reluctant to let up at first, “So, Just Smile” pairs with the melodic “Kids” and take their place as the stripped back, more diluted cuts on the record. Sandwiched between, hazy earworm “Melody (From Me To You)” slightly picks up the pace before the velocity tapers off for the second half of the record. Sadly forgettable, the latter portion of the record is made up of “So, Just Smile” and “Treat Me Right” that are begging for an injection of adrenaline to up the ante and bring the record back to it’s rightful trajectory.

Record closer “In My House” offers a delicate approach with sweet and breezy instrumentation, while Pixey paints a lonesome narrative with “there’s nobody to love here in my house” as the record finishes with a somber tone – a complete juxtaposition to the perceived beginning intention.

Pixey has homed in on what works for her, and has perfected it, but the record lacks much exploration, or experimentation within her craft, and sticks firmly to the same vein. Albeit, with Dreams, Pains & Paper Planes Pixey soars into the musical stratosphere and shows no signs of coming back down to earth any time soon.