The Undercover Dream Lovers
From its humble beginnings in founder Matt Koenig’s childhood bedroom, the Undercover Dream Lovers has evolved through New York City DIY spaces and Los Angeles home studios into the prolific solo enterprise it is today.
On his latest record, Koenig transforms his signature dream-pop sound into a fusion of synths and raw guitars, using the visceral noises of his own history to navigate the balance between childhood memory and the passage of time.
“Atomic House” is out March 20, but first, Koenig broke down how the record came to be and what’s in store for the future of the Undercover Dream Lovers.
YY: This album’s “scratchy” and “kinetic” nature signals a clear departure from the band’s signature bedroom pop sound. Looking back, do you see this shift as a leap or a calculated step?
MK: It definitely felt more like a leap. There was a moment where I was asking myself if I could even make music like this, and if it would fit within the Dream Lovers world. The shift really started when I was gifted a Gibson SG and kept it sitting right by my desk. I found myself picking it up constantly and writing with it.
That guitar opened the door to something more cathartic. I was leaning into big anthemic power chords instead of relying on my wall of synths as much as I had before. The synths are still there in places, but this record was mainly driven by drums, bass and guitar. It felt freeing, like discovering a whole new set of sounds to explore.
The field recordings and tactile sound effects on this record are of special importance to the “emotional architecture” of the album. What inspired you to go in this direction?
I liked the idea of giving the record a bit of a backstory through environmental sounds that felt tied to certain memories or moments. It was pretty freeform. I was mostly following instinct and thinking about sounds that reminded me of summertime or specific experiences growing up.
For example, I had split my head open a few times as a teenager, so on “Banging My Head” there are references to hospital sirens and that feeling of being rushed to the emergency room. I also grew up with six sisters and we all shared one phone, so the sound of dialing numbers felt like a classic nostalgic detail that worked its way into the atmosphere of the record.
How does “Atomic House” reconcile the comfort of home with the chaos and danger you’ve described feeling as your parents get older?
In some ways it does and in some ways it does not. Writing the record was therapeutic and cathartic for me. It gave me a place to revisit certain memories and feelings that come up when you start thinking about family, time passing and the reality of your parents getting older.
But I do not think those feelings ever fully resolve. Change is uncomfortable and there is always some uneasiness around it. You cannot stay in one moment forever, even if you want to.
A lot of the record reflects that tension. It is like saying one more evening in the neighborhood, just being present with it before moving on. Eventually you have to let things change and accept whatever the next chapter is. The album was my way of processing that while also embracing what comes next.
This record sheds light on the subtle contrast between memory and mindfulness. How do you use the past to frame this record without falling into the trap of nostalgia for its own sake?
I think it connects to the same idea as the last question. You cannot stay in one mindset forever and trying to live completely in the past ends up shortchanging the other experiences you are meant to have.
For me the past is something you visit, not somewhere you stay. It is nice to reconnect with certain feelings and memories, but everything should be in moderation. The point of the record is not to live inside nostalgia. It is more about acknowledging those memories, appreciating them, and then continuing forward.
Tracing this project all the way back to the recording experiments in your childhood bedroom, what would you say to your 14-year-old self now, and what do you think that version of yourself would have thought of “Atomic House?”
I think my 14-year-old self would be pretty stoked that I have been making music this long and that it is still such a big part of my life. At that age I did not really expect or anticipate that it would turn into something I could keep doing for so many years, so in a lot of ways it has been a really nice surprise.
My nephew is starting to get into music now and watching him try to put together his own little studio has been really fun. He gets excited about the music I make and everything I am working on. Seeing it through his eyes reminds me that I was once that kid too, just experimenting and trying to figure things out.
In a way that feeling never really ends. You are always learning and hoping you get to keep doing the thing you love. The biggest thing is just appreciating it while it is happening.
Beyond the album, what are you most looking forward to in the future of the Undercover Dream Lovers?
Every time I finish a record I feel a little exhausted and think maybe I will try something else for a while, but I always end up coming back to music. It is just the thing that keeps pulling me back in.
I have already started writing again and some of it already feels a little different from this record, so it will be interesting to see where that leads. At the same time I like leaving space for surprise. The future of the project usually reveals itself once I start following whatever ideas show up next.
