To put it plainly, Hater know their audience. The Swedish dream pop band haven’t had much of a moment to breathe in a few years, releasing You Tried only last year, then quickly signing with Fire Records and recording the Red Blinders EP. Now, already, arrives their debut proper for the label, Siesta. Their work here may not seek to surprise you, but it’s ability to comfort and affirm are not to be understated.

Whereas far too many dream pop projects lose themselves in a quest for perfection, mired in extravagance and an obsession with, yes, being a bit too showy, Hater are simply here to celebrate. Siesta celebrates the genre, its fans, and, above all, its past and future.

At no point will Siesta sound either too well-trodden or overly adventurous. The latter remark may sound a slight in most cases, but here, it serves their gentle, comfortable sound perfectly. ‘I Wish I Give You More Time Because…’ drifts almost like a lullaby through a charmingly chilly soundscape.

This isn’t to say Siesta is without bite. ‘It’s So Easy’ offers more than a bit of righteous jealousy with its wistful chorus, repeating, “It’s so easy when it all comes to you,” to some unknown lucky son-of-a-bitch. We’ve all been there, and the feeling is infectiously palpable.

Singer Caroline Landahl shares the vocal duties on ‘Closer’, with saddened, distant male vocals reaffirming her strength as she goes through one of the album’s catchiest vocal melodies. Her singing isn’t without flaws; desperation doesn’t suit her particularly well, and while it’s easy to understand what she was going for with the more guttural pain displayed on ‘Why It Works Out Fine’, it isn’t particularly pleasant to listen to. Nonetheless, this minor misstep aside, the album is remarkably consistent and compact.

In short, Siesta is here to entertain, but even more, hoping to make you feel better. This is one for blue days that won’t make you feel all the more blue. Somehow it manages to project both a distant sadness and cling to hope and happiness.It’s quite the undertaking for a rather understated dream pop album.

Hater may not give off the showmanship of their older, flashier siblings, but they aren’t trying to. They’re content to bring it to us softly, and trust their listener to find the massive reservoir of feeling lurking just behind their undemanding, friendly songwriting. Siesta may be a celebration, but it keeps it low key. You’ll find yourself refreshed, minus the clean up. It’s a salve for a tiring year. What more could we really ask for in 2018?