Man Man - Dream Hunting In The Valley Of The In-Between (2LP) - Pink & White Marble Vinyl

Man Man took their time with this one, and it shows in the best way. Dream Hunting In The Valley Of The In-Between arrived on 1 May 2020 via Sub Pop, seven years after On Oni Pond, and it carries the restless spark that made the band cult heroes while folding in the hard-earned perspective of a long break. Ryan Kattner, better known as Honus Honus, steers the ship with that ragged croon and battered piano, but the arrangements feel fuller and slyly elegant, like someone tidied the circus tent without turning the lights on too bright.

The record opens its arms to all of Man Man’s oddball signatures, the clattering percussion, sly horns, mallet instruments, and wheezing keys that feel dug out of a theatre storeroom. Yet it is not just a mess of colour. Songs snap into place with real intent. You hear it straight away in Cloud Nein, one of the early singles, where a rubbery groove and singable hooks hide lyrics that chew on anxiety and resilience. Future Peg, another pre-release teaser, sprints along with a pogoing pulse and cheeky turns, then swings into a chorus that lands clean and confident. On the Mend comes later and wears a bruised heart on its sleeve, the kind of wry, aching ballad Man Man used to tuck between the racket, now given a little extra space to breathe.

What keeps me coming back is the way these tracks feel lived in. Kattner has long been compared to Tom Waits and Captain Beefheart, but here the songwriting leans more toward crooked art pop than gravelly stomp. The piano is front and centre, the horns speak in short jabs rather than blares, and the percussion toys with textures that feel playful without tipping into novelty. It is an album built for headphones, so you catch the little handclaps, the toy-box chimes, the woodblock hiccups, but it still plays loud and loose enough to fill a room.

Released right as lockdowns rolled across the world, the record found an audience hungry for something off-kilter but humane. Critics at places like NPR and Pitchfork clocked that balance, praising the band’s sharpened craft and Kattner’s knack for turning existential jitters into something you could shout along with. There is no pose here. Even at its most theatrical, you can hear the grind that went into getting Man Man back on the rails, the quiet relief of finding the engine still sparks after years in the shed.

If you are crate-digging, Dream Hunting In The Valley Of The In-Between vinyl is a fun spin that rewards repeat plays. The Sub Pop pressing gives the low end a warm thump, the piano has body, and the horn stabs cut through without getting splashy. Man Man vinyl tends to sell to the faithful first, but this one has crossover appeal for anyone who loves eccentric pop that still remembers to write choruses. I have pulled it from the shelf more than most 2020 titles, partly because the sequencing just works. The mood darts from jittery to tender then back again, yet the throughline never wobbles.

There is a bit of a fable running through it, the idea of getting unstuck, of finding some charm in the in-between state the title nods to. That suits a band that has always felt like a traveling troupe, catching sparks from city to city and leaving glitter on the floor. It also makes the album weirdly comforting. The jokes land, the grooves shimmy, and every so often a line sneaks up that feels like a note to self, keep going, even when the carnival pack-up takes longer than you planned.

For collectors, it is an easy one to recommend if you are looking to buy Man Man records online. It sits nicely alongside earlier chaos like Rabbit Habits and the more tuneful On Oni Pond, and if you are curating Man Man albums on vinyl, it fills the seven-year gap with style. I have spotted copies turning up at the usual local haunts, and if you are wandering a Melbourne record store or browsing sites that specialise in vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out for that playful cover art and the Sub Pop spine. However you get it, this is a late-night record with plenty of bite, a reminder that eccentric can still be deeply catchy, and that a band with history can come back sounding not just alive, but necessary.