‘Le Dauphin’, the 2026 release from Chicago based songwriter MV Wells, feels like a record out of time. It’s richly layered songs draw from adult pop, 70s AM radio influences, the more accessible end of the Harry Nilsson catalogue, early solo Lennon, and even more contemporary fare in the vein of The Flaming Lips (at least when they’re not trying too hard to be quirky, or pitch the latest idea in their string of novelties). Its nine songs feel familiar, yet repeated listens uncover material that is ultimately far more interesting than mere pop throwbacks, and at it’s best, it’s an album that proves that good pop – despite going through many changes over the decades – will ultimately find its way back to the golden age of the late 60s and early 70s.

One of the first things that’s obvious about ‘Le Dauphin’ is that it sounds expensive. A lot of time has clearly been spent perfecting the songs and on the layered production; perhaps more than you’d expect to be spent on an artist without a track record of million selling records. Something else that’s quickly evident is how quickly Wells nails his musical colours to the mast for all to hear. The record opens with the deeply unfashionable ‘Stone That Was Thrown’, a short retro pop workout that takes a McCartney-esque rumpty tumpty rhythm, hammers it out on the electric piano, and ends up sounding like a cross between a Nilsson sketch and a 10cc demo. For those who like an obviously 70s derived sound, it’ll certainly inspire further listening, of course. The superior ‘Love Unseen’ clings onto the Fender Rhodes sound to provide a big heart, adds some sparsely applied, reverbed guitar work and a big melody to arrive at something that sounds like a cross between 10cc and Scandinavian power pop maestro David Mhyr. The music is so assured, it makes it much easier to overlook – or accept – the somewhat reedy vocal tones that sound a little unfinished at times, and the blend of cello, keys and warm bass that drive this number showcases a great sound that can often be found at the heart of ‘Le Dauphin’s best songs.

An instant highlight, ‘Dreaming About You’ begins slowly, pitching smooth vocals against gradually swelling orchestration. After a minute or so, the number springs into life with a steady mid tempo drum line and a few electric piano sounds that bring back memories of The Silver Seas’ fantastic ‘Chateau Revenge’ LP. Adding more of a soul influence to the retro pop allows for the vocal to glide across a great melody with a silky feel, up until the tempo increases, bringing an upbeat AM radio sound to the fore. As the last notes fade, it leaves the listener with the feeling of having heard something special. Unfortunately, this is quickly offset by the slightly dreary ‘Spectrum Boy’ – a shameless solo Lennon pastiche where an uninteresting mid tempo approach and obvious Lennon-ish vocal inflections dominate, to the point where it almost becomes irrelevant as to what else the recording offers. Taking a drum sound that instantly recalls ‘Instant Karma!’ and adding a droning keyboard, Wells uses a flat sound to build volume, eventually bringing in a retro sounding, twangy guitar to do precious little. This is a mostly lazy tribute, bringing nothing new to the sound, and if you’re not into that – and it’s time to admit that without Paul’s help, John struggled to find an interesting melody…ever – no amount of supposedly rallying cries of “yeah, yeah, come on!’ will ever lift it from the musical doldrums.

Luckily, the bouncy ‘A Lovely Sin’ with its sharp guitars, kettle drums and rousing rhythms brings back a much more positive feel, with Wells adding a pinch of The Coral’s guitar driven sounds to his still very-much-obsessed-with-the-70s backdrop. Musically, it’s crafted from various elements you’ll have encountered on this album already, but an enthused vocal and a very cool – and heavily reverbed – guitar solo do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of making this feel fresh enough to stand out. Elsewhere, ‘Tropic de Novo’ takes a welcome sidestep musically to introduce influences from 60s soul – most notable from its recycling of a bassline that sounds like something from the Motown house band – reaching Wells via a wave of late 70s/early 80s yacht rock, bringing the advertised “tropical” feel, along with a Hawaiian-tinged guitar solo. In terms of “uncool”, Wells reaches his absolute peak here, but the arrangement on this is lovely – it’s full without ever feeling unnecessarily cluttered, but remaining interesting regardless of its relative simplicity. ‘Killing Time’, meanwhile, drops headlong into the world of 70s singer songwriters with its moody, stripped back feel, stately piano melody and sweeping melodies. One of the album’s more basic arrangements, it allows the lyric room to shine, and Wells proves to handle heartbreak with the same grace as he shares upbeat pop. By the time the drums arrive belatedly and stabs of violin return to the lush, orchestrated feel that proves to be one of this record’s strongest selling points, this track goes from good to great, becoming another definite highlight.

One of the album’s slow burners, the seven minute ‘I Won’t Say’, initially feels like a musical cuckoo. Eschewing the accessible, orchestrated pop, the number opens with droning keys. Latching on to a slow rhythm, the number seems in no hurry to go anywhere, occasionally changing chords for a different drone, but also allowing for a mournful vocal to take centre stage. On first listen, it sounds like a dark cousin to Springstreen’s ‘Streets of Philadelphia’. In time, a little more of MV’s character pokes through the cracks, and the soaring guitar lines that compliment his aching vocal hint at something epic on the horizon. It’s with a blanket of Richard Wright inspired keys that this number really comes into its own, though, introducing a Floydian element that feels so out of place with the rest of this album’s material, and yet remaining a good fit with the performer’s retro interests. The second half of this number even shifts into something that sounds like an outtake from ‘Wish You Were Here’…especially once the long instrumental coda gets drowned in busy jazz influenced sax with a Dick Perry tone. For those who’ve still not clicked with Wells at this stage, this could be different enough to win a few new ears.

In closing, it’s all change yet again, when Wells pulls out the acoustic guitar for ‘Farewell’ and delivers a melody that sounds vaguely like a Who album cut from the mid 70s fused with a track from Wilco’s‘Summerteeth’, an influence further highlighted by the vocalist adopting a Jeff Tweedy-esque tone. The light vocal taps into a slightly hazy feel, not always befitting of the music itself, but the rumble of kettle drums and a couple of gently orchestrated moments offer something a little closer to the bulk of the album. In terms of stand alone tracks, this feels somewhat slight, but as an album closer and palate cleanser after the epic ‘I Won’t Say’, it works very effectively indeed.

‘Le Dauphin’ won’t be for everyone. Even for fans of 70s pop and retro sounding singer songwriters, although there’s a lot here to be enjoyed, it’s the kind of album that demands time, patience, and above all, the listeners’ full attention. Almost everything runs far deeper than a slab of retro pop shared as nostalgia, and the album as a whole is far more than an easy listening offering designed to make the audience feel safe. Released in an era of push-button instant gratification via streaming services, it feels rather rewarding to explore an album that requires a little more effort. Despite one major blip (‘Spectrum Boy’ deserves the skip button treatment after that first cursory spin), those who like it are likely to end up loving it.

June 2026