After his breakout LP Escape Velocity nearly a decade ago, trumpeter Theo Croker has been expanding the realm of his spiritual-jazz compositions to more seamlessly incorporate rappers and other guest vocalists who affirm his cosmic vision. Having built a rolodex of collaborators over the years after working with everyone from J. Cole to Nathy Peluso, his last two LPs have included contributions from Wyclef Jean, Jamila Woods, Jill Scott, Ari Lennox, and more.
Yet his new record Dream Manifest is less about name recognition and more about assembling a roster of artists who are compatible with the dream space he creates for them to lend their voices to. Longtime collaborators Kassa Overall and Malaya make appearances on the record, while LA-based beatmaker D’LEAU materializes more than once. All of which is in service to bolstering the sophisticated musical and emotional themes of intimacy and harmonious ways of being, the collaborations themselves bringing a sense of harmony to these songs.
With the album out today via Dom Recs, Croker took the time to walk us through Dream Manifest, explaining the nuances of each track with characteristic poetry. Check it out below.
1. “Prelude 3”
This is my opening invocation, a sonic portal into the dream realm. No drums, no beats to confine the experience—just color, space, and emotion. I wanted the melody to feel like it’s floating in a loop, searching for something just out of reach. Plush reverbs and delays wrap around acoustic bass and piano like a misty shower of cosmic dust. It’s the ritual that welcomes you into the dream state, where logic fades and the subconscious leads through melody.
2. “One Pillow” (feat. Estelle & Kassa Overall)
This one is rooted in intimacy and the dreamlike interplay of two souls navigating love across dimensions. It’s about sharing space—physically, emotionally, spiritually—and the deep vulnerability that comes with true connection. I approached the trumpet as the wandering traveler floating between their perspectives—reacting, interpreting, sometimes leading, sometimes just listening. Musically, there’s a deliberate tension between organic and synthetic elements: acoustic piano and synth pads, upright bass and synth bass, live kit and programmed drums. That contrast mirrors the emotional layers of a relationship, how clarity and confusion, tenderness and distance, often exist side by side.
Estelle and Kassa bring a quiet sophistication. Their voices don’t compete—they lean into each other, subtle and poised. This is a love interaction built on restraint, awareness, and intimacy. This track isn’t just a love song. It’s a dream-state love dialogue—a conversation between the heart and mind.
3. “64 Joints” (feat. Tyreek McDole)
This is a transmission from the depths of intuition to the conscious traveler. A spiritual message encoded in lyric, rhythm, melody, and vibration. It’s a journey toward the higher self, toward awakening, toward remembrance of the inner divine mind. A subtle pineal thump. I composed the form of this piece with intentional numbers in mind (3, 4, and 6), drawing on their spiritual geometry and energy. The form nods to a 16-bar blues in call-and-answer, but it stretches and twists beyond structure. Change is uncomfortable by design, and there is peace within acceptance.
The ensemble navigates a live take over a DJ’d resampled track. The drums push and pull, chaotic but grounded, and the bass weaves across the bar lines like a counter-spell, while keys and synths surround the lead voices like a cosmic vessel. Tyreek’s tenor voice locks into the trumpet like a mirror. Two different instruments, two distinct voices—moving together through the same experience. That’s the essence of duality: tension and harmony, individuality and unity, conscious and subconscious.
4. “Up Frequency (Higher)” (feat. MAAD)
This one is about elevation through connection. It’s playful, sensual, and intentional. I wanted the track to feel light, but not shallow. Like something familiar reimagined in higher color. MAAD delivers that balance perfectly. Her vocals glide across the beat with softness and strength. There’s an R&B ease to it, but underneath is a tribal pulse that stays in motion. The bass is alive—pulsing and warm—and the keys create this dreamy, levitating space. This is the only track on the album with a fully stacked trumpet section, adding layers of lift and shimmer that rise up around her voice. I was channeling the vibe of MJ’s Dangerous era—especially “Remember the Time.” That lush groove, the elegance of melody and groove. Hypnotic and meditative, too. A reminder that the right frequency will always lift you. No force, no friction—just flow.
5. “High Vibrations” (feat. Malaya & D’LEAU)
This track lives at the intersection of groove and elevation. It’s a pulse, a wave, a frequency you step into. Malaya’s voice is pure trance. Her storytelling is like a mantra, inviting you deeper with every phrase. D’LEAU built the foundation—his drum programming is crisp and elastic, rooted in house but open to breath. I floated the trumpet over all of it like incense—melodic, soulful, Sade-esque. The bass line blends upright and synth tones to create something both grounded and sonically unique. It anchors the harmonic thickness while the rest of the arrangement levitates. All in conversation: acoustic and electronic, rhythmic and melodic, involved and fun. This is what happens when all collaborators trust the current. It’s built for the dance floor—but also for the heart space. The vibration is high for a reason. We all really enjoyed bringing this song to life.
6. “Crystal Waterfalls”
This melody is sonic meditation—fluid, open, immersive, and deeply reflective. The trumpet flows like a mantra, repeating with slight variations, guiding the listener inward. A waterfall of sound—cleansing, gentle, and luminous. It’s less about arrival, more about presence—letting the sound carry you like a current. The first half moves with a 6/8 feel—soft, cyclic, and open. The rhythm breathes. The melody floats. Then it shifts with an instant drop into a 4/4 pulse, letting me loose into improvisational exploration with the band—six deep breaths of trumpet improvisation. That moment mirrors inner transformation, how stillness can evolve into release, and reflection into expression. This is music for release—a gentle rinse for the spirit. Steady transformation. Melody in motion. Water as wisdom.
7. “We Still Wanna Dance” (feat. D’LEAU)
This song is pure spirit, movement as medicine. D’LEAU and I built it from a shared need to release, to shake off weight, to remember joy. The groove is steady but slippery: live drums, layered percussion, chopped samples, velvet-smooth synths. My trumpet whispers through it all like a secret—sometimes leading, sometimes barely there, like breath between the beat. It’s soulful and slick, but there’s something ancient underneath. That was the intention: to feel timeless and futuristic at once. This is a rhythm you drive to, sweat to, lose yourself in. A summer pulse. A memory. The chaos is real, but so is the joy. And through it all, no matter what we carry, we still wanna dance.
8. “Postlude 3”
This is the breath after the journey. A return not to where we started, but to where we’ve been transformed. “Postlude 3” echoes the opening prelude, but slower, looser—like memory dissolving in real time. The tempo is free, the shape is fluid. No beat, no grid—just sound rising and falling like breath. It’s the swing of the pendulum, the ebb and flow of life, the rise and setting of the sun. A final surrender. Just let go. Let the absence of tempo and time free you.
