In the corners of the post-punk revival, where too many bands are content to just wear the eyeliner and recycle the same three basslines, Dream Bodies emerges as the real damn deal. This is a solitary incantation by the one-man force of nature, Steven Fleet. And his latest single, “Omens,” released December 5th, shows how to make music that’s both brutally heavy and hauntingly spacious.
For the lost, Steven Fleet is no basement-dwelling rookie. The man has pedigree. He’s shared stages and projects with members of bands like Magic Wands and has toured internationally, holding his own alongside legends like the Chameleons. With Dream Bodies, he distils a lifetime of darkwave, dreampop, and post-punk influence into a potent, witchy brew.
“Omens” is the eighth single this year from this prolific entity, and it marks a killer shift in gear. The track is built on a foundation of syncopated, dubby drums and an insistent, dirge-like bass throb that feels like a pulse from a cold, dead star. Layers of synths and spacious, echoing guitar work cascade over it, creating a feeling of vast, emotional desolation. It’s music that leaves only you and the void to ponder the big questions.
“Omens” is a broody, existentialist lament on love, loss, and the cosmic dice roll of it all. Fleet mulls over the eternal clash between fate and free will. Are our connections pre-ordained by the stars, or do we forge them ourselves? The lyrics—elegiac, personal, and universal—wrestle with celestial imagery, conjuring “rare celestial energies,” and “orbits and ellipses in a dance.” It’s about taking the leap into love knowing it might end, asking “will you take the chance?” over a soundtrack that feels like the last heartbeat before the fall. This is deep, heady stuff.
This song proves that Dream Bodies is rewriting the most haunted chapters of the 80s darkwave playbook. Steven Fleet, once again, makes the esoteric feel intimately devastating, summoning a mood. And with “Omens,” the mood is gloriously, irresistibly doomed.