Unclouded-Melody’s Echo Chamber

This article looks at Unclouded, the latest Melody’s Echo Chamber album, as Melody Prochet settling comfortably into her own world rather than trying to reinvent it. Her music has always felt cinematic and hazy—full of reverb-soaked guitars, soft percussion, and warm fuzz that can make even the most ordinary moment feel like a slow-motion movie scene. On Unclouded, she leans fully into that dreamlike pull. The songs drift and shimmer, delicate and pretty, sometimes so weightless they seem ready to float away entirely.

There are standout moments: the slow build and release of “Memory’s Underground,” the sunlit groove of “Daisy,” and the gentle, almost meditative calm of the title track. Still, the album’s biggest weakness is how smoothly it goes down. Many of the songs blur together, more concerned with sustaining a mood than leaving a lasting hook. Prochet sings mostly in English this time, which works, but her French songs have always carried a special gravity—an authority that once placed her in conversation with French greats like Air.

Inspired by a Hayao Miyazaki quote about seeing life clearly and without hatred, Unclouded circles ideas of balance, optimism, and quiet reckoning. It’s less about dramatic turns than about emotional steadiness. The article also places the album in the context of Prochet’s long journey—her early collaboration and relationship with Kevin Parker, the shelved Unfold record, and the serious accident that sidelined her for years. All of that history hangs over Unclouded, even if the music itself remains soft and understated.

What the review captures well is that Unclouded isn’t chasing growth in the traditional sense. It’s about preservation—holding onto a sound and trusting it completely. The tension between beauty and memorability feels intentional. Dream-pop, after all, isn’t always meant to hit hard; sometimes it’s meant to dissolve.

After everything Prochet has been through, her decision to stay rooted rather than reach outward feels purposeful, even defiant. The album may not demand attention song by song, but taken as a whole, it creates a space—one meant for reflection, longing, and quiet escape. Its softness isn’t a flaw so much as its message: clarity doesn’t always arrive sharply. Sometimes it drifts in, unannounced, and stays just long enough to comfort you.

If you want, I can make it even looser, shorter, or tailor it to sound like a Pitchfork-style capsule, Bandcamp blurb, or personal blog review.