“Throwback pop” is such an overused term at this point that albums fitting such a template are no longer revolutionary—they’re merely expected. What follows? A little bit of fame and maybe some NPR exposure, the artist goes on to play some sizable halls and festival billings, mild applause, we usually don’t hear from them again, the world keeps a-spinnin’. How lovely it is, then, to see Detroit’s Empty Houses come out of nowhere with an album as utterly unpretentious as Daydream. Bright, sunny, and thankfully stripped down, the piano-driven numbers of this trio evoke Carole King one moment, Motown the next, but all with their modern spin on song structures that we thought were forgotten to the sands of time. The group vocals on the title track transport you back to an earlier era, one of buying records on vinyl or cassette, dancing in the living room, and perhaps even getting your parents to join along with you. The real shocker is that this is a new band, out there right now, ready to recreate those moments for you in person. Don’t take treasures like this for granted.