Why Do We Romanticise the Future of the Past?
There’s something hypnotic about the glow of neon against wet pavement. The hum of a synth, stretched across an endless skyline. The flicker of a screen, casting a ghostly light onto an empty street.
This is the world of synthwave—a genre that isn’t just about music, but about an entire aesthetic, a mood, a feeling. It exists in a paradoxical space: a retro-futurism that looks forward by looking back. It’s a vision of the future that never quite happened, yet feels oddly familiar.
But why are we so drawn to this? Why does the neon-drenched, synth-driven world of 80s futurism still resonate in an era dominated by ultra-modern technology? And why do albums like Horizons tap into that same longing for something just out of reach?
The Sound of a Future That Never Was
Synthwave is rooted in nostalgia, but not in the way most people think. It’s not just about remembering the 1980s—it’s about remembering a version of the 1980s that only ever really existed in films, games, and daydreams.
Michael: “When we write music like Neon Nights, we’re not trying to recreate the past—we’re capturing a memory of a future that feels like it should have happened.”
The influence is everywhere. Films like Blade Runner and Tron, games like OutRun, and the eerie glow of VHS tracking lines—all of these shaped the sonic textures of synthwave. It’s the sound of the past imagining the future, a world where synthesisers and drum machines weren’t just tools, but a way of soundtracking an entirely new era of possibility.
Even though synthwave takes clear inspiration from the past, it doesn’t belong there. It’s always reaching forward, creating a timeless aesthetic that feels disconnected from real history.
Cityscapes, Memory, and the Dream of Neon
Cities have always felt futuristic. Whether it’s the towering skyscrapers of Tokyo or the glowing advertisements of Times Square, urban landscapes feel like science fiction made real. And yet, when we look at these cities through the lens of synthwave, they become something more than just real places.
They become mythologies—visions of what could have been.
Ayesha: “There’s something about neon that makes a city feel endless, like it’s always alive, but also completely detached from reality.”
That’s why cityscapes play such a huge role in synthwave and in our own music. Tracks like Shahar-er Alo capture the romantic side of the city—the beauty of streets buzzing with life, of dreams built under flickering lights. But Neon Nights reveals the other side—a city that never sleeps, that traps you in its glow.
Both are versions of the same dream: a world that’s always moving, changing, glowing—but somehow remains frozen in time.
Why We’re Drawn to Nostalgic Futurism
Synthwave exists at a strange intersection between hope and loss.
It’s hopeful because it’s expansive, dreamy, and full of possibility—a world where the future always feels within reach. But there’s also a sadness to it. It’s a future we never actually got, a dream from the past that was abandoned somewhere along the way.
This is why synthwave—and nostalgic futurism in general—feels so personal. It taps into a longing we don’t entirely understand.
Michael: “We live in a time where technology moves so fast, but it doesn’t feel like progress in the way old sci-fi imagined. We have AI, hyper-connectivity, digital everything—but there’s no sense of wonder in it anymore.”
Synthwave restores that wonder. It brings back the feeling of discovery, of adventure, of standing on the edge of something new. Even if it’s just an illusion, it’s an illusion we want to believe in.
How Horizons Fits Into the Neon Dream
If synthwave is about nostalgia for a future that never happened, Horizons is an album about searching for that future. It’s full of dreamers, of people staring at the sky, of cities that stretch into infinity and love that transcends time.
Some songs, like Neon Nights, embrace the darker, cyberpunk side of this vision. Others, like Timeless Love, feel like the soundtrack to a utopia just beyond reach.
That’s why Horizons doesn’t just sound futuristic—it sounds like a future imagined in a dream.
Ayesha: “It’s not about trying to sound like an 80s sci-fi film. It’s about capturing the feeling of longing that those films left behind.”
The Future, The Past, and the Endless Glow of Memory
Synthwave is more than a genre. It’s a feeling of being caught between worlds—the past, the future, and the endless neon-lit dreamscape in between.
Maybe that’s why we keep coming back to it. Because in a world that feels colder and more disconnected than ever, synthwave still offers a vision of something warmer, more human, more alive.
And maybe that’s enough.
Neon Nights is released as a single on March 15. Close your eyes, step into the glow, and chase the dream.
Michael & Ayesha
Crystal Youth 🚀💜