1) Livräddären; 2) Om du var här; 3) Saker man ser; 4) Oprofessionel; 5) OWC; 6) Celsius; 7) Bianca; 8) Innan allting tar slut; 9) Elvis; 10) Glider; 11) 747
The first real Kent album. Moody guitars, walls of sound and classic anthems.
Key tracks: "Livräddären", "Saker man ser", "747"
In the liner notes for the box set Box 1991-2008, frontman Jocke Berg describes Isola as Kent's "first real album". It's an accurate nutshell of a description. Kent's first two records were a decent introduction and Verkligen in particular already had some genuinely great parts to its name, but both were rushed out by a band who were still learning. By the time the Isola sessions started, Kent had the experience to start expanding their horizons and they were more in tune of what worked and what didn't. In a more practical fashion, the surprise success of the last record had granted the band a proper studio budget and their new record ended up being produced by Zed, who'd click with the band so well he'd become a regular fixture with the group for a good while. Those same liner notes also mention that the band’s general line of thought at the time was that it was perfectly fine to be ambitious and to treat the band as something with a real future, instead of sticking to some pre-conceived notion of being a scruffy grassroots indie band forever. So, with the options available to them and with the sense of progress they themselves felt they had made, Kent decided to transform themselves into what they fantasised they could be. It worked.
Kent's sound until now had been indebted to the particularly melancholy strain of 90s Britrock, which itself was in the process of transitioning from the swooping Britpop-era anthems into the anxiety of the OK Computer-driven end years of the decade, and Isola tapped into the sweet Venn diagram spot right between the two: there's strings and there's hope as the band build themselves louder with each chorus, but a tinge of Scandinavian sadness trails underneath it all. That particular concoction clicked with the general public. For the benefit of the non-Nordics in the audience, it's perhaps important to note that Isola was a big album. The lead single "Om du var här" was almost omnipresent in Finland, and I can't even imagine how huge it must have been in Kent's native Sweden - it's a big, dramatic, string-laden angst anthem that sounds custom built for purpose to serve as an introductionary statement, that the scrawny punks of the first two albums had grown up. It lead Isola towards the charts and accolades across Northern Europe - so much so that Kent becoming a true international act could have been a real possibility.
(As a matter of a fact, a re-recorded version of Isola sung entirely in English does exist, in an attempt to break the language barrier and reach the Anglosphere audiences; but the clunkily translated and pronounced attempt didn't quite work, and so Isola remained a Scandinavian success story.)
I don't mean to imply that chart success equals greatness, but sometimes - particularly with albums of this kind in this era of music - it can act as a kind of vindication, that all the hard work finally pays off with good reason. Isola is exactly that: the underdogs snagging the trophy. The reason it took off is because it harnessed all the latent talent Kent had that was almost bursting, and in doing so the band proved what had been hinted at on the first two albums: that Kent were actually a legitimately great band with some serious songwriting talent within, and it was now becoming too obvious to ignore. Isola doesn't stray away from the first two albums as much as it completes the gradual evolution from the beginning to now, perfecting the formula that the band rode on for in their early years - loud guitar walls, a strong sense of melody, and an emotional impact booming through Jocke Berg's slurring voice which has come leaps and bounds since he first got in front of the microhpone. The guitars crunch more, the choruses soar wider and the emotions climb higher - this is what the first two albums promised but didn't quite deliver.
Kent letting go of the fear of ambition also leads to some new winds blowing through Isola's covers, namely in its wider arrangements. Isola marks the moment where Kent begin to introduce new elements to their sound and moving beyond their standard rock band setup; with baby steps, but drawing a clear line nonetheless. The vulnerable late-night ballad “OWC” is dominated by piano rather than the familiar guitars, and the ethereal "Innan allting tar slut" is drowned in soft drum machines and keyboard textures, which fit perfectly into Kent's moody soundscapes; and where the slow songs used to be the band’s weakness, here they’re downright standouts, these two in particular. Elsewhere the expanded sounds can simply mean some additional strings (special mention to the stellar sweeping ending to “Oprofessionel”) or taking full advantage of the once-again quintet’s ability to wield three guitars at once if they want to, leading to the shimmering “Celsius” which has just about as many lead guitar parts as it has players. When they do just want to rock, there’s a dynamic confidence that wasn’t there before, from the driving rhythmic flow of “Bianca” to the incredible opening salvo of the crushingly loud "Livräddären", the timelessly undeniable rock and roll force of “ Om du var här” and the gently wistful 90s alt rock perfection of "Saker man ser". Of these, “Livräddären” and “Saker man ser” are in particular the most perfect examples of what Kent aimed for in the 90s, and why they were so great at it.
While “ Om du var här” was the big calling card, the album’s actual signature song is its closer “747” - not just because of how close the album’s visual side is to the song, but because out of everything on the record nothing exemplifies the band’s new horizons as much as "747" does. It’s the natural climax point that the rest of the album builds up to both musically and through production, with a partly-programmed drum beat shuffling through a dreamy soundscape the likes of which just a year ago would have felt impossible for Kent to achieve. It's when Berg finishes his vocals roughly around a third of th way through when the song truly begins and lifts off towards its sunset ride ending, dovetailing into infinity with skyscraping guitars and textural, carefully introduced synthesized elements. "747" is a lot of things: a fantastic fireworks-accentuated closer which feels like the natural end point for everything that came before, the codification of the now-tradition to close off the album with a long epic, and and enduring classic song and a genuinely legendary piece of Kent’s discography. It's also a foreshadowing of things to come: if Isola is Kent’s first real album, then the synthesis of sounds of “747” is the arrow sign pointing towards the group's future, and even now you can practically feel the pieces magically clicking into place when you listen to it.
Kent would go on to make greater records than Isola as they followed their new ambition and instincts further, growing into a widely talented band while perhaps coincidentally moving away from the straightforward guitar sound that they started with. That doesn't diminish the strengths of Isola and if anything it's a testament to its quality that it still sounds vital for the band. In fact, arguably it's the company that it keeps that highlights its accomplishments. If we are perfectly honest the first two albums aren’t exactly the kind of start that leaves you in awe of a new band, and on their next record Kent would arguably dial their new tones up a little too much - which means that Isola stands as the sole balanced part of this first chapter of Kent’s career. It’s the strongest representative of who they were at this stage: a group of young guys who had started to dream big, who had a love for atmospheric guitars and with an almost romantic penchant for melancholy. They inhabit that space excellently, as Isola proves.
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