Washed Out's "Feel it All Around" is a perfect example of the genre's breathless simplicity: A single beat and a simple vocal line that immerses the listener in the weighted mood of an ethereal fugue state:

"Round and Round" by Ariel Pink travels from the same breathless simplicity into various song styles, from King Sunny Ade afropop to Holland-era Beach Boys with elements of musique concrete dropped in here and there.

With each new hit and new band building off of the sound came a new term to refer to it all by. First it was called "Chillwave", then "Hypnagogic Pop", and then "Glo-Fi", and eventually declared "the next big thing". Then it was declared dead, all in the course of a year.

Just as soon as critics were able to cobble together enough examples to define the genre, it was abandoned. New York Times columnist Jon Pareles called it "annoyingly noncommittal music" and "a hedged, hipster imitation of the pop they're not brash enough to make" after a showcase of similar bands at the 2010 South by Southwest festival this spring. The article in The Wire magazine that defined the term "hypnagogic pop" garnered a slew of semi-hate mail, describing it as the "worst genre created by a journalist". Others, like Henry Gruel from Impose magazine, railed against the terminology. "I hate to admit it when some wanker makes up a downright terrible term to reign in a disparate group of musicians". Even the bands that encompass the genre, like Neon Indian and Toro Y Moi, don't believe the genre exists, or that it should be classified as such.

In this cultural digestion cycle, whether the music is good, or had something to say, is generally considered irrelevant. Which is a travesty, since this trend, or non-trend of seemingly similar musical groups, still retains its potency. Its breathless, dark ambience and ability to tap into underlying memories with tape hiss are powerful effects. The worn pop melodies mine a murky memory hole of pop melodica while still retaining their own thoroughly unique identity. The modern existential ennui of the lyrics is descendent from Brian Eno, Gary Numan, and David Sylvian.

Describing these songs as "haunted impressions of the '80s" might scare someone trying to kill the nostalgia that hounds that decade, but those faded memories just might reveal a powerful catharsis. Brandon Soderberg of the Village Voice described the overall sound as "Christopher Cross on muscle relaxers".

Whatever similarities the music might have to the minimalist horror trance of a highly obscure yet influential band like Suicide or to the New Age ambience of meditational trance recordings, it is that similarity to synth R&B and Californian light rock, or Yacht Rock (Fleetwood Mac, Michael McDonald, Doobie Brothers, and later-era Beach Boys recordings), that are its strongest identifiers.