Spotlight: Deadbeat Summer by Neon Indian

Remember chillwave?

The buzzword used by music journalists more than artists themselves?

The name existed solely for the sake of pigeonholing. This was no conscious movement; it was artists creating to their heart’s content and critics scrambling to assign a file for it.

In 2026, chillwave is most certainly dead. Like vaporwave, or tropical house, or some other fringe genre that was a commodity and an aesthetic more than a self-sustaining scene. Back in 2009, though, Neon Indian was one of the top purveyors of chillwave.

With arcade bleeps, hissing drum machines, and analog synthesizers filtered to oblivion, Alan Palomo (the architect behind Neon Indian) wove his half baked teenage memories into the the tie-dyed neon tapestry that is Psychic Chasms. Strip the album of its “genre,” drag it across 16 years, and you’ll find that it hasn’t aged a bit.

“Deadbeat Summer,” the centerpiece of this flawless record, captured the blur of misspent youth and the carefree warmth of summer in a way that went beyond nostalgia. Rather than reminiscing about the aimless days of olde, looking back on hazy days with clear eyes, “Deadbeat Summer” plops you right back in the thick of them.

Ah, to be 16 and girl-crazy. Red-eyed on the couch and faced with week upon scorching week. No responsibility and no desire to take any on.

It occupies the same artistic territory as “Dazed and Confused” – both song and film try to capture a simpler time. They try to bring you to a placeless “back in the day” and coax some of those old feelings back to the surface. Neither was made in the era it depicts (Though Deadbeat Summer’s central Todd Rundgren sample is from 1974, close enough). In trying to bring viewers and listeners back, they instead bring that bygone era’s sense of youthful naiveté and romantic simplicity to the ever moving present.

So pop your best headphones on, lay back, tune in, and drop out. Brave the heat with a little vacation to yesteryear.