Amor de Dias' Street of the Love of Days is the result of a collaboration between Alasdair MacLean of the Clientele and Lupe Núñez-Fernández of Pipas. Unlike a lot of side projects where the artists involved want to branch out and explore new musical vistas, Amor de Dias represents a perfect blend of the Clientele's quietly autumnal, richly arranged sound and Pipas' fragile and intimate approach to indie pop. Built around the duo’s gently plucked and strummed Spanish acoustic guitars, the record is a lush and refined treat that sounds the way burning leaves smells, lulling you with tender lullabies and surprising you like a glimpse of a fox scampering through shrubbery. The songs are influenced by British folk, bossa nova, indie pop, and gentle psychedelia, produced and arranged with a light touch and punctuated by guest appearances from friends like Damon Krukowski, Naomi Yang, Louis Philippe, and -- most memorably -- Ladybug Transistor's Gary Olson, whose trumpet adds some wonderful texture to the overall sound. At the heart of the record, though, are the duo’s voices; MacLean’s knowing croon and Núñez-Fernández's fragile whisper blend together nicely and separately sound like two sides of a very similar coin. They both impart a lot of feeling into the words and melodies without a lot of effort, and create a warm and comfortable space for the listener to sink right into peacefully and completely. The record is fairly well split between hazy ballads and uptempo janglers, striking a nice balance and keeping things interesting throughout. For every hauntingly autumnal ballad like "Stone," there’s a lilting and sweet tune like "Street of the Love of Days." With no weak moments and enough highlights to fill a mixtape (like Núñez-Fernández's almost unbearably gentle lullaby "Dream [Dead Hands]" and the heartbreakingly lovely MacLean song "I See Your Face"), Street of the Love of Days is a well-conceived, perfectly executed album that captivates you right from the beginning and doesn’t let go until well after the album stops spinning.
AllMusic Review by Tim Sendra