Kent - Då som nu för alltid (2016)

1) Andromeda; 2) Tennsoldater; 3) Vi är för alltid; 4) Den vänstra stranden; 5) Nattpojken & dagflickan (feat. Anna Ternheim); 6) Vi är inte längre där; 7) Förlåtelsen; 8) Skyll inte ifrån dig; 9) Gigi; 10) Falska profeter; 11) Den sista sången

Kent plan their funeral and finish on an album that doesn't dwell on the end, but rather focuses on delivering one last set of great songs.

Key tracks: "Vi är för alltid", "Falska profeter", "Den sista sången"
Bonus video: The trailer

In March 2016, Kent announced their funeral. The (fantastic) trailer for Då som nu för alltid featured a skeletal drummer marching through familiar iconography from the last three decades - mementos of album covers, music video scenes and logos across the career - and eventually leading a darkly foreboding parade through the deserted streets of Stockholm: the grim reaper visiting moments in history and gathering everyone together for one last time. If it wasn’t clear that something was up from the visuals alone, the stark 1990 ✞ 2016 message at the end of the video made it clear. Last album, last tour, quarter of a century coming to an end. Kent were going to their grave and they were going to celebrate it.

The announcement to call it a day was a shocker, given only two years earlier Kent had released Tigerdrottningen and had showed no signs of slowing down. Still, in retrospect, it's perhaps not coincidental that Tigerdrottningen was the unexpected harbinger of death. It had been the first album in Kent’s long history where it had felt like they were running out of steam, hiding its moments of brilliance underneath a consistent feeling of the once inspiring band operating on autopilot. It wouldn't be too farfetched to think that maybe the band themselves had realised something was amiss too; with Kent always having had a tight control over their journey, the relative non-event of Tigerdrottningen may as well have been a warning sign that the spark wasn’t there anymore. Rather than trying to correct the course, bowing out gracefully after all this time probably seemed like the right idea lest they risked of becoming a band way past their best-by date. 

If you view Då som nu för alltid in that light, it makes a lot more sense on surface level. Despite the theatrics surrounding it (including that hilarious album cover), the album itself is relatively low on the drama and if it is about the end, then it's really subtle about it. Much of the record deals with closure and legacy but mostly in a very specific, character study -like manner that doesn't particularly tie in with the band without a stretch. Instead, Då som nu för alltid sounds like the band is picking things up where they left them the last time like nothing had happened - it’s a direct sequel to Tigerdrottningen, utilising much of its soundworld and aesthetics like it’s just another addition to the back catalogue without any hidden agendas. It’s not exactly what you would expect from a funeral wake and it’s almost bafflingly unconcerned about all that, but on the other hand it’s not like it would make any sense for Kent to back away now from what their sound had evolved to by this point, and when’s the last time you heard an intentional career closing record that experiments or stretches into new directions? The effortless synthesis between electronic programming, synthesizers and a real live rock band was a perfect outfit for Kent and they knew where to go with it and when to emphasise one aspect over another, and Då som nu för alltid flexes that skillset. There aren't too many tweaks from the last album but the sound was never Tigerdrottningen's issue and you could almost say that this second go at it is like Kent wanting to prove they could do justice to the ideas presented on that album.

This isn't a big tearjerking goodbye album; what you mostly have here instead is a really solid, often great album that falls neatly in line with everything else Kent had been doing in the 2010s. The song material is generally top notch, with plenty of peaks and relatively few lows: “Den vänstra stranden” sounds like an excerpt from Tigerdrottningen’s less exciting depths, “Skyll inte ifrån dig" gets buried in the final barrage of songs. There's a duet again, and "Nattpojken & dagflickan" with Anna Ternheim is by a long shot the best duet in Kent's catalogue, smoothly moving close to power ballad territory without actually stepping in it, keeping an element of tension and energy while absorbing the dramatics. The key trait tying the tracks together is that everything sounds grandiose. Every song on Då som nu för alltid is meant to sound at least a little bit epic and something to stir the rumbling emotions within the listener even if they never actually talk about the end directly - each track is a a hand to firmly hold onto during the last journey you'll ever take together, ready to become a lifeline if needed. It's often hopeful and at its heaviest merely bittersweet, but always grand and evocative. When the explosive chorus drums of "Andromeda" colour the stars in the sky in a flash of fireworks and children's choirs, when the extended finale of "Falska profeter" reprises the music played in the album trailer and turns it into a communal huddle moment, when "Vi är inte längre där" grows more and more into a 80s-styled stadium synth showstopper ready to release the stage pyrotechnics with each passing chorus - they all feel larger than life and incredibly important and personal in the moment in time that they inhabit. Even if the album avoids the obvious emotional checkpoints, it still aims to be something resonant and warm with every step and for the most part it succeeds.

The title drop track "Vi är för alltid" is the perfect representation of what Då som nu för alltid aims for, and it serves not as just Kent's last classic single before the end but also as the album's early anchor point for its themes. It's an archetypical Kent pop song the likes of which they had been dropping across the past handful of albums, but it's one that learned lessons along the way and strives to aim higher. To put it simply, it's a banger, a hot badger, it slaps - it’s an alluring verse which grows into a magnificent chorus that sounds even more titanic after it rises from the ashes of the the brief breakdown. There are many others like it on Då som nu för alltid, songs where Kent deliver a hell of a good pop song as they rely on the instincts they had built over the past few, more direct albums - "Tennsoldater"'s electronic twitch and the hard-hitting take-no-prisoners energy of "Förlåtelsen" especially (that final run!) - but none of them feel so vital as "Vi är för alltid". I'm a fan of subtle lyric changes and a special shoutout goes to the shift between its choruses, breakdown and the last chorus that is pure genius in how it hits entirely new emotional reaches with just little tweaks, moving from hopeful ("they will sing songs / make films / write books about us") to defeated ("just kidding, no one is going to sing songs..."), until it eventually morphs into pure desperation ("please make films about us, you must sing songs about us..."), and it sounds so magnificently anthemic the further it trails towards its worries about being forgotten. It's a multifaceted triumph, and the perfect title track (even if indirectly).

But if there is a key song here, it's obviously going to be "Den sista sången" - literally "The Last Song". Like most of the album it slyly dances around the elephant in the room as it describes a transatlantic moment of two destinies moving apart, and it takes it all the way until the very end and the very last lyrics for the subtext to finally become text: "This is the last moment we see / This is the last song I give to you”. As it does, the music swells in that exact wistful, melancholy yet beautiful manner that is how in your heart you always wanted this journey to end. There's that cliché about not being sad that it's over but glad that it happened, and that exact emotional note is what "Den sista sången" nails down, carrying a blue haze throughout its calm guitar riff, the inexplicably English-language middle-eight where the children's choir and echoing drums from "Andromeda" make their longing return back to earth and the appropriately sizeable finale that stays just short of becoming the kind of an epic ending that the song felt like it was building up towards. And I'm not going to lie, I would have loved for it to have had the big waterworks credits roll that the occasion calls for and the abrupt end feels downright cheeky: the last wink from the band, stubbornly making their own way as they always have done and denying even the smallest bit of obvious fan service. But I've made my peace with it and if anything, the swift closure brings, well, closure. It doesn't linger on, this chapter has finished and life moves on. It hits a different kind of emotional beat. "Den sista sången" is brilliant, and the perfect song to end a career with.

And then it's over, the funeral march has finished, but Då som nu för alltid barely lets that little fact define it as an album. I still don't really know which way I swing here - the sentimental side of me would have loved an album that milked the hell out of everything coming to an end, but not doing so and largely presenting itself as just an album among others has in some ways let it build a life beyond that reputation. It's easier to pick it up for a listen and simply treat it as the great album it is without that extra emotional weight behind it. There was always going to be bias around this album by way of simply knowing it is the end and that the band deliberately considered it as such, but by letting these songs breathe outside that context ensures the listener hears them primarily on their musical merits, and it's a great album just on that basis alone. Not within Kent's top tier perhaps, but a steadily consistent example of their talents in songwriting, arrangement and performance. For their last album, Kent decided to simply showcase the reasons they endured for 26 years and with which they built a grand discography worth exploring, focusing on delivering one last set of excellent songs over dwelling on their own funeral. It results in an album that stands up to the old highlights, and it’s something they can proudly close their story with.

Rating: 8/10

Kent - Tigerdröttningen (2014)

1) Mirage; 2) Var är vi nu?; 3) Skogarna; 4) La belle epoque; 5) Svart snö; 6) Allt har sin tid; 7) Innan himlen fall ner; 8) Din enda vän; 9) Godhet; 10) Simmaren; 11) Den andra sidan

A potentially interesting album left cruising on autopilot.

Key tracks: "Mirage", "Skogarna", "La belle epoque" 

Kent went from a clear rock band to a hybrid of synth pop and rock all the way back in 2007 and you would reckon that by the time I would talk about their 2014 album, that change wouldn't be something that needs to be mentioned any longer. We get it, they changed sound, and nearly a decade after it happened it's now the norm for the band, no longer anything strange or bewildering. But Kent did keep tweaking that sound, exploring different frontiers that the change had cleared the pathway for, and so while there is a clear split of two halves in the band's discography, Kent had avoided repeating themselves after that halfway point. Even so, it is 2014's Tigerdrottningen where there’s a sense of Kent being plateaued. First hearing the album at its release, it was the first time my main takeaway from a new Kent album was that it sure sounds like a Kent album through and through: no surprises, no revelations, simply exactly what I expected to hear from them at this point and little more. And long story short, and review TL;DR, but that's still the primary take I have on Tigerdrottningen. It's where the comfortable corner the band had established for themselves had started to sound perhaps too tight.

Tigerdrottningen is so close to being a really fascinating album. It's a really charged record, sometimes even angry and even though the music is still predominantly bright, there's a sharper hit to its production that sounds urgent and determinedly pointed. Joakim Berg has clearly reached some kind of a boiling point and there's a heavier political lean to the album’s lyrics, often just as simple off-the-cuff lines absolutely laced with poison. It comes to surface on "La belle epoque", a near-formless rant about the state of modern Sweden and the hypocrisy among its citizens, and "Skogarna" which distills the hollow hopelessness of being stuck somewhere you have no affinity for in a political climate that ensures that hope never grows (and there's a fantastic self-referential line too about hearing your old hit song from the nearby radio, which is given the honour of the final twist of the knife in the gut). Many Kent albums have traded on melancholy, but Tigerdrottningen is fed up about it and sounds like it’s about to take action. But it can’t keep up what it hints at.

Tigerdrottningen's flaws aren't in how it does nothing new - and if we are honest, it does present some tweaks to Kent's standard formula, most clearly with the backing vocalists who follow and sometimes trade lines with Berg across the record, giving the band's traditional vocal harmonies their own distinct character. Rather, the problems lie in how absurdly frontloaded the album is and how badly it trails off afterwards, with the first four tracks offering a genuinely compelling vision of a record built on angry synth rhythms, which turns out to somehow lead into a disappointingly plain finale that bins Kent’s tradition to always finish on a grand high. The bulk of Tigerdrottningen is decently enjoyable but completely running on creative autopilot and it leaves little trace apart from the occasional obvious catch like the English-language movie sample that starts off "Din enda vän" is by far the song's most memorable part. Few sparks of light guide the way, i.e. the intensifying end of "Allt har sin tid" and the miniature line-trade drama of "Godhet" (both songs where the backing vocals shine), but for most parts Tigerdrottningen lacks in the areas Kent usually shines and doesn’t seem too bothered to try too hard to either. It's not so much unmemorable as it is just transparent: they’re songs you enjoy enough to keep listening to when they come up on shuffle, but there’s a reason why that’s the heaviest exposure they get. This is Kent running through the motions, channelling Kent The Brand rather than the band that would seek to innovate and reinvent with each new move, and the songs stick as much or as little as you'd expect in that regard.

But there is that initial quadruplet of tracks where Tigerdrottningen is on a mission you want to believe in. "Mirage" is a mirrorball that someone has smashed to pieces and now wields one of the shards as a blade; a disco giant that barely holds its bitterness in control, reinterpreting Kent in a way that much of the rest of the album tries to live up to and doesn't reach. "Var är vi nu?" goes for the stadium anthem antics of the previous album but creates a powerful lament out of it, properly introducing the album's backing vocalists and makes a strong business case for keeping them around (and Kent would). "Skogarna" and "La belle epoque" are, as mentioned, Tigerdrottningen's two most obviously angry songs and (perhaps not coincidentally) the record's two greatest moments, yet they interpret that intensity in such different ways. "Skogarna" is bubbling and bouncy, bearing the album's most chart-friendly chorus that's a beautifully pure euphoric rush of fluttering synths, hiding the song's true heart so effectively. Meanwhile "La belle epoque" throws it in the open. It puts Berg's voice right in the center, breathlessly running from one sarcastic and nihilistic line to another, resembling a spoken word poem that someone put over on a steady programmed beat and strings that sound like a mob forming a circle around you, only coming up for air for its brief, dramatic choruses. If Tigerdrottningen is Kent on autopilot, it's unbelievable how they managed to still come up with four songs this strong; and it's downright cruel for the listener they were put right in the beginning, one after another. 

A mid-tier, disappointing Kent album is still, overall, a good album - just not one that inspires. Despite its pointed lyrics Tigerdrottningen is ironically an album that has very little to say, from a musical perspective: rather than coming up with something novel it rephrases previous ideas instead, and the few new tricks it does employ are more window dressing than anything substantial. It leaves an impression of Kent either running out of ideas or finding themselves unable to build a whole album out of the ones they did have. For a band on their third decade and album count in double digits, it’s inevitable that a record like this happens and kudos to Kent for making it this far before it happened - but like so many of those records, even though it’s a decent album, even a fan knows deep down in their heart that it just isn’t anything special despite its moments of old brilliance flashing through.

Rating: 6/10

Kent - Jag är inte rädd för mörkret (2012)

1) 999; 2) Petroleum; 3) Isis & Bast: 4) Jag ser dig; 5) Tänd på; 6) Beredd på allt; 7) Ruta 1; 8) Färger på natten; 9) Låt dom komma; 10) Hänsyn

Kent fully embrace radio-friendly hit songs after years of avoiding them. Big songs for stadium audiences, though all cut from the same cloth.

Key tracks: "999", "Petroleum", "Jag ser dig"

As referenced in my other Kent reviews, and for the benefit of the non-Nordic audience out there, Kent were a big thing. They had the much-quoted reputation of being Sweden’s biggest band during their prime and their impact around the rest of the Nordic region wasn't too shabby either, and that success had come in completely organic terms. The band simply had the luck to make songs which resonated with people, that success provided them with the autonomy to take their career wherever they wanted, and people’s tastes just happened to follow along no matter the style or sound changes, even when Kent themselves liked to act hesitant about embracing their public status (minimal interviews, no traditional compilations, etc). They were a stadium band with stadium hits but it was completely accidental and prior to 2012, the band had been pushing themselves in directions that could have easily seen them get thrown back in the shadows. Jag är inte rädd för mörkret, then, is practically an acknowledgment of their status. It's an honest arena album with an accessibly melodic and hook-driven sound, it's outwardly positive and it dials down the murky electronic aesthetics of the preceding albums in favour of a booming, once again more band-centric sound. It's something you would normally imagine a band of Kent's stature sound like by this point in their career.

Joakim Berg might still be covering familiarly anxiety-driven Kent ground lyrically but the songs on Jag är inte rädd för mörkret hide their meanings behind their upbeat summer radio hit direction. 2010's En plats i solen was already hinting at this and in a lot of ways Jag är inte rädd för mörkret is a decided extension of those initial steps, with the same producer Stefan Boman in tow as well: everything sounds clear as crystal and bright like a holiday afternoon. As a fan of all those dark and insular records before this, my natural instinct should probably be to balk at this - but my simple brain is wont to find pleasure in big anthemic choruses just as much as anyone else's, and the fact is that Kent is simply really good at those. The songs on Jag är inte rädd för mörkret do not showcase anything new or unique, and they tiptoe in a kind of Absolute Radio territory to a perhaps dangerous degree, but songs such as "Jag ser dig", "Tänd på", Färger på natten" and "Låt dom komma" are a positive rush, precisely because they aim straight for the jugular. There is strength to a hecking good chorus and Kent are so proud of the ones on Jag är inte rädd för mörkret that many of the songs conclude with an extended repetition of their big central hook, simple and short enough to sing along even if you're not native to the language. They're the type of choruses that you get a little obsessed about as they continue playing in your head: in particular the uninhibited U2-stadium bombast of "Jag ser dig" (the best of this lot in its shameless fist-pump/sing-along theatrics) and the nearly camp and endlessly crowd-pleasing "Låt dom komma" are tracks that shine in this department, quickly pushing away everything that isn’t their chorus. But they are, absolutely, really great choruses.

 

Really, my complaint here isn't the direction itself because there's so many good and positively instant cuts across Jag är inte rädd för mörkret, but rather that it sticks so strongly to its one chosen element that after a while it all gets rather one note: by halfway point you know exactly where each song is going, because outside minor variation they all share the same structure and flow. It isn't until all the way to the very end that you get something a little different, when the somewhat abruptly moody, loop-driven closer "Hänsyn" ironically sticks out a bit too much, as a washed out rendition of the style the prior albums rode on. As good as the songs are, much of the album's material feels interchangeable with one another, and only a few songs really make a stand on their own merits. That notion is heightened further by how Jag är inte rädd för mörkret sticks its best - and most diverse - songs right in the beginning. "999" is a radio-friendly version of Du & jag döden's landmark finale "Mannen i den vita hatten": across its seven minutes of epic rock bombast and Berg's stream-of-consciousness style introspective ranting, it flips the usual Kent formula of ending an album with a slowly unfolding giant by starting with one and kicking straight into full speed. It's by and far the most "traditional" Kent has sounded in ages, but by way of an old master showing off why he became a legend in the first place. "Petroleum" leans towards the other extreme and more heavily against Kent's more contemporary electronic sound, but it twists it to sound brighter than before, like a dangerously sharp synth pop club hit. It's the most alluring song across the entire record, sinking deeper into its swirl of a chorus and enchantingly detached delivery, somewhat challenging the album's openly warm nature by taking its aesthetics and still moving inwards.

Perhaps the surprise here is that my reaction to the album isn't stronger. Jag är inte rädd för mörkret has such a strong personality and it's such a 180 degree turn from where Kent had been trawling since the mid-2000s that, like similar more audience-friendly endeavours in other artists' catalogues, it would be an obvious candidate for being an album you'd either love or leave behind. That it ends up somewhere in the middle - as a good album that’s neither too exciting or disappointing - can be attributed to its small flaws: how most of it is effectively multiple variations on the same song, and how in a tight 10-song run a few substandard songs ("Hänsyn", the indifferent slog of "Isis & Bast") stand out more than the consistently enjoyable bulk of the record. Part an olive branch to the wider audiences and part letting one’s hair down after a string of heavily conceptual, tightly-knit records, Jag är inte rädd för mörkret is a more interesting album by its nature than perhaps by its songs - my review for this album is shorter than my average Kent review simply because there’s less in these songs to talk about due to their very design. But its charm is in simple pleasures: the beauty of big pop songs delivered by a band who confidently know their way around them.

Rating: 7/10