From high school hijinks to homemade hits, ‘Runway Four’ is a fever dream spun in falsetto and glitchy grooves. Longtime collaborators Wes Coeur and ParanoidDrops have turned their friendship into a full-on musical mind-meld, and their debut offering is a neon-lit ride that never quite stays in one lane.
Drawing from a palette of glossy synths, retro drum machines, and shamelessly theatrical vocals, the project plays like a lost 80s soundtrack that crash-landed in the internet age. Think shoulder pads meet SoundCloud swagger, or Prince jamming with a cracked copy of FL Studio. The result is tracks that feel both oddly nostalgic and boldly now.
There’s a gleeful absurdity baked into their sound with hooky chants that wouldn’t feel out of place in a basement party, syrupy vocal runs that melt into autotune sparkle, and beats that swerve between slow jam intimacy and bounce-heavy chaos. But beneath all the quirk and confidence lies a surprising emotional weight. These songs may flirt with parody, but they’re written by artists who know heartache just as well as they know humour.
What makes ‘Runway Four’ more than just an exercise in aesthetics is the undeniable bond between its creators. Rather than taking turns in the spotlight, Coeur and Drops blur their voices and styles into one surreal, catchy, and totally unpredictable musical force.
The album’s high points are many. The throwback ballads that croon like cassette love letters, the tongue-in-cheek bangers made for dancefloors that exist only in dreams, and a finale that dares to be both tender and excessive in equal measure. It’s the sound of two weirdos going all-in and somehow sticking the landing with sequins and sincerity.
‘Runway Four’ doesn’t try to make sense. It just makes magic.
