We've all experienced that magical moment when the boundary between the dream world and reality blurs. For some it only lasts a microsecond; for others a few blinks of an eye, hours in comparison. For me it's rare to even dream, let alone enjoy the confusion of the foggy period when Radio 2 tries its best to raise me from my slumber, but when I do, the sounds that ring in my head are something like Reigns - sinister, yet sublime; atmospherics that caress the individual back to life like a loved one's hand across a forehead. The slurred, incomprehensible and somewhat nightmarish voices that introduce 'Recurring Attic Dream' do recede, thankfully, leaving only sun-blushed mood music from some other plane of existence. Somewhere in the mix there lies echoes of Four Tet, elsewhere lullabies and nursery rhymes of old, everywhere waves of fragile electronica and delicate instrumentation. Dreams are the spark that ignites ambition and desire; thus, Reigns are the soundtrack to inspiration.