Imagine if you will a world where the Aurora Borealis occurs while the sun never sets – just a glimmering display of light in various shades no matter where you set your eyes. It may seem like a sensory overload, but that world is reined in just enough to still be tantalizing enough for you to want to spend a decent amount of time in. If one were to apply this fictitious realm to the music world, you get Night, from Gothenburg’s Futile; it’s a place where there’s always light, and the dance party never ends.

Night kicks into gear with “Lust for Life,” a track we’ve delved into that we still can’t stop moving to. There’s a tendency within the indie community to brush something off that gets labeled as electronic rock or indie pop, but you can’t hear a track like “Tuf Life” and not admire the luster that refuses to hide who they are. Feeling alive – how can you not relate to that craving? The fact that it leaves blisters as it burns on the way out doesn’t hurt. And what about the clear, personal connection that’s a bit innocent and feels like butterflies in the stomach on “Leon Night?” There’s such a respectful hunger for deeper connection that you can’t be cynical about it.

You have to understand, too, that in spite of the seeming heavenly inspired riffs and synth, the band is completely comfortable in fervently placing their feelings bare lyrically as well. You get a darker tone, a bit electro island in rhythm on “I Don’t/You Don’t,” and laser like precision cuts through the mist. But then you have a band looking to forget something when someone refuses to make that possible. Or you take “Young Link,” with its slow, rolling opener. Manipulation, feeling overpowered and controlled, and an almost inculcated instinct to open one’s self to this dynamic are all right there. You wouldn’t necessarily hear it in the music, but delve a bit deeper, and you get a lot more. It just so happens that Futile prefers to counter these feelings with more glow than others might.

 “Gucci Empire II” seems to be one of the most powerful fights against these undertones. With a guitar opening that provides jolts of electricity before getting a bit jangly, Futile are ready to get away. They “just want to dream all day,” and while they search for looking for something simpler, it feels like they’re getting there. Finally, in an act of electronic stoicism against the heaviness felt at times, the band saves an imposing song of praise for the end. Guitar solos sound like they’re meant for much longer than a few seconds, the rhythm section puts a healthy persistence forward, and there’s little doubt that “Abate” is a scorcher live.

The album is available now. You can stream it on Spotify or pick it up here. Either way, allow the light into your life. Joey Smith