From the outset of Fort Perch Rock, The Dream Machine reject conventional musical norms.
Guitars surge, rhythms stutter, and melodies intersect. Rather than resolving these tensions, the band maintains them, establishing the album’s atmosphere. The record does not pursue traditional cohesion; instead, it explores emotion, memory, and the complex interplay of past and present. Despite the apparent disorder, the album achieves a distinctive unity.
This album is the band’s most expansive and emotionally resonant work to date. The Dream Machine extend their vibrant sound into deeper, more experimental, immersive territory. Whereas previous albums alluded to retro influences, Fort Perch Rock fully integrates surf rock, psychedelia, girl-group harmonies, and post-punk energy, all filtered through a contemporary, dynamic lens.
A sense of place, a sense of drift
The title matters. Named after the coastal fort in New Brighton, Merseyside, the album is filled with seaside images: windy promenades, dim arcades, and fading summer light. The first track, “Fort Perch Rock,” sets this mood immediately. It’s sharp and energetic, with choppy guitars sounding like waves hitting concrete. The song feels lively and unsettled, like nostalgia that never quite feels comfortable.
That tension between warmth and unease runs through the whole album. The Dream Machine aren’t just looking back; they question memory, break it down, and see what remains when the shine fades.
Restlessness as identity
Released on 27 February, 2026, Fort Perch Rock stands out because it never settles in one style for long. Songs flow into each other without warning. “Flowers on the Razor Wire” shifts into deep introspection, with layered vocals floating between dreamy pop and raw emotion. (“She likes the songs from The Damned, and I don’t, I want to marry, but she says she won’t”).
Then “Angel Heart” bursts in with sharp urgency, full of jagged guitars and driving energy, as if the album suddenly wakes up (with a fun video to accompany it). Lyrically, it’s a little darker (“Solemn I will lie, Broadwalks in my mind, an eye for an eye… guess this is goodbye.”).
Songwriter and lead vocalist Zak McDonnell says, “I wrote ‘Angel Heart’ straight after watching the [1987] film. I got really into an album called ‘Forever Breathes The Lonely Word’ by an underrated 80’s band called Felt, a few years ago, and the singer, Lawrence, is a brilliant poet. That album sort of been in my subconscious ever since, and I think it’s bleeding through in this one a lot. We met The Lemon Twigs at a party around the same time and bombarded them with questions. What they told us made me want to use more interesting chords and structures on songs like this one.”
Even the quieter moments feel uneasy. “Things That Make Us Cry” uses piano to create a sad mood, but it never gets too soft. McDonnell says, “I remember working on (”Things That Make Us Cry”) in the morning on a piano in Toulouse on tour, with the sun beating through an open door. It’s a sad song for such an amazing time.”
There’s a weird heaviness to it, as if something might break at any moment. That’s the album’s secret: it rarely lets the listener fully relax. Every beautiful moment feels a bit unstable.
Despite all the stylistic changes, the album never feels random. The Dream Machine use different genres to add emotion, not just for show. Every musical turn supports the main idea: identity, like memory, consists of shifting pieces.
Lyrics in fragments
The album’s lyrics focus more on impressions than stories. Characters come and go—lovers, friends, old versions of themselves—but are rarely clearly defined. Instead, the songs capture moments of feeling: longing, regret, brief happiness, and quiet heartbreak.
“Joe” is one of the album’s most moving tracks. It starts out gentle and almost comforting, but underneath, there’s a deep sense of loss. This is the kind of song that reveals more with each listen, as its emotion builds slowly. (”Joe, where did you go? To a place far beyond… I still hang onto every single word you said…yeah… Find the lock and use the key, lots of you I see in me”).

On songs like “Julie on the Rocks” and “If I Could Be King,” the band slows down and explores a hazy, thoughtful mood. The guitars, soaked in reverb, fade into the background while the vocals float above. These tracks feel dreamy, almost like memories instead of live performances.
The long form: ambition unleashed
The album’s centerpiece, “The First Bird,” shows The Dream Machine’s ambition at its strongest. On first listen, I did think, “Gee, that song was meandering.” It lasts over eight minutes and builds slowly, adding layers of sound until it feels almost overwhelming.
But there is patience in how it grows, letting ideas develop, and a sense of controlled chaos as it reaches its height. It takes a few listens to appreciate it. The track stands out not just for its length, but for its emotional journey. It feels like a release, a breaking point after all the album’s tension. When it finally reaches its peak, it feels deserved… even cathartic? (”Gotta keep, keep love inside. Gotta keep, keep just flying on…” is the repeated mantra towards the end.)
This song also shows that the band is thinking beyond typical indie music. There’s a cinematic feel, as if they’re creating experiences, not just songs.
Holding it together
With all the ground Fort Perch Rock covers, it’s impressive that the album stays together. Many bands might have lost their way with so many ideas, but The Dream Machine keep everything anchored through their tone and purpose. The production helps too: it’s warm, a bit hazy, and often dense, giving the album a steady atmosphere even when the songs go in different directions.
There’s also a strong emotional thread running through the album. No matter how much the band changes styles, they keep coming back to the same themes: memory, loss, identity, and time passing.
This consistency gives the album its structure.
A quiet resolution
After the album’s intense middle section, the last track, “Best Days of Our Lives,” stands out for its simplicity. It’s stripped down and thoughtful, bringing things back to a personal level. There’s no big statement or dramatic ending, just a quiet recognition of what’s gone and what’s still here. (”Time, slipping slowly by our sides, with nothing gained and much to hide, these are the best days of our lives, these are the best days of our lives”).
It’s the right way to end. After all the sound and change, the album finishes not with certainty, but with acceptance.

Final thoughts
Fort Perch Rock isn’t an easy album, and it doesn’t try to be. It’s dense, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming. But it’s also very rewarding, revealing new details with each listen and staying with you long after it’s over.
What The Dream Machine have done here is rare: they’ve made an album that feels both personal and ambitious. They’ve gathered pieces of their influences, memories, and identities, and put them together into something that doesn’t fit any single mold.
That’s exactly the point.
In a music world that usually values clarity and consistency, Fort Perch Rock goes for complexity and contradiction instead.
It’s a bold choice, and it works.
8.7/10.0, Chris Garrod, May 4, 2026
Buy/Stream here: https://thedreammachine.os.fan
