Queens of the Stone Age - Songs for the Deaf (2002)

1) You Think I Ain't Worth a Dollar, But I Feel Like a Millionaire; 2) No One Knows; 3) First It Giveth; 4) Song for the Dead; 5) The Sky Is Fallin'; 6) Six Shooter; 7) Hangin' Tree; 8) Go with the Flow; 9) Gonna Leave You; 10) Do It Again; 11) God Is in the Radio; 12) Another Love Song; 13) Song for the Deaf; 14) Mosquito Song; Bonus track: 15) Everybody's Gonna Be Happy

Brutish, muscular and with a wicked sense of fun. It may be the only QOTSA album I really like but they sure hit the nail on the head with it.

Key tracks: “First It Giveth”, “Gonna Leave You”, “God Is in the Radio”

Bands with revolving memberships can be like slot machines: sometimes the line-up changes result in jackpots, and Songs for the Deaf is the 777 for Josh Homme's band of merry musicians. No other Queens of the Stone Age album has managed to hold my attention, yet here everything locks into place. Homme as the reliable core constant; Nick Oliveri as the chaos that lends the album a manic energy; Mark Lanegan’s gravely murmurs are the perfect fit for the record's desert-dry road trip; and perhaps most importantly, Dave Grohl presents the best case for why he belongs behind the drums rather than in front of Foo Fighters. I like the songs on Songs for the Deaf too, but remove or replace any of the core set of performers that bring those songs to life, and I don’t think they would work anywhere near as well. There’s a magical chemistry between the four main QOTSA squad members on this album, which makes Songs of the Deaf the muscular, brutish and entertainingly thrilling record that it is. 

 

It's fun, too, and perhaps most of all. Songs for the Deaf sounds angry and aggressive with its heavy riffs and Grohl's thunder god drums - in my teen years this was one of my go-to grr mrr teen angst albums - but it's as playful with that harder edge as it is genuinely inclined to make a lot of noise. Songs for the Deaf presents itself as a very archetypical Guitar Rock Album by an archetypical Guitar Rock Band and there are parts of the record that are practically overwrought with generic bad-ass masculinity (the constant car thematics, the over the top capital-R Rock radio DJs, the edgelord sperm logo in the liner notes), and while it would be wrong to say that the album subverts any of that, it has fun with it. "No One Knows", "Gonna Leave You", "Another Love Song", heck even "Go With the Flow" could all have been whimsical pop songs in another life, such is their breeziness and jovial nature - which the band then push cover in their grit and muscle and splice them with a hint of something more sinister to spice things up. The edition I have features a cover of The Kinks' "Everybody's Gonna Be Happy" as a bonus track at the end, where the flower power rock-along gets the same sonical treatment as everything else on the record; that mixture is honestly much more indicative of the whole album than you'd think from a random bonus cover, and to some extent it makes it obvious what gear the band were actually operating on when coming up with the album.

Nonetheless, the best thing that Homme and his companions do across Songs for the Deaf is rock out loud and hard. “No One Knows” is the hit everyone knows but I can't say I've ever been too enamoured by it and I’d easily rank it as among the album’s weaker cuts, with that bare-bones stomp beat it mostly operates on largely cruising past what actually makes the album great. Compare it to e.g. its counterpart singles, the full-adrenaline highway cruising “Go With the Flow” and the twisting and swirling stadium anthem “First It Giveth” and you can tell what their more famous sibling lacks as they abundantly conjure a storm of energy and noise, in particular how Homme (and the countless guest guitarists across the album) makes his guitar scream and growl while Grohl operates on some unholy zeal behind the drum kit. The extended showmanship pieces - “Song for the Dead”, “Song for the Deaf” and “God Is in the Radio” - primarily exist to serve that musicianship, dedicating large sections of their running length to the jam-like interplay between musicians who have tuned onto the same mental channel and really tap into that mythical rock and roll magic that wimpy indie dweebs like me most of the time just don’t get to indulge in. 

 

But above all, this is the album of immensely rewarding deep cuts where the album’s love for solid hooks gets to run the most unrestrained. “The Sky Is Fallin’” and “Hangin’ Tree” swirl with the darker undercurrents of the most isolate parts of the desert the driver of the album’s thematic cycle drives through, and they marry that aesthetic with some of hte album's most understated yet bewitching chorus hooks. The whole final stretch from “Go with the Flow” to “Another Love Song” is fierce pogoing fun, where big guitar textures meet bigger hooks and the impish smirk of the first half of the album moves to a wide open grin: for a rock album, this is incredibly backloaded and many of its best parts lie in its deepest areas. Though, it's not like the first half has anything to be embarrassed about and in particular “You Think I Ain’t Worth a Dollar…” is the perfect opener for what Songs for the Deaf turns out to be, as it literally sucker punches the album into the groove it stays on for its duration.

 

Following Songs for the Deaf Grohl returned to his own projects and Oliveri was kicked out of the band due to abuse allegations, and the Queens subsequently lost their spark. Or at least, that's what it felt like: the follow-up album Lullabies to Paralyze was an altogether murkier affair and while it gained critical favour from the fans, the casually interested me lost track. Songs for the Deaf became a curio in a record shelf, a one-off moment of attraction from a band who transforms with each release to the delight and disgruntlement of their fans. But even for the general consensus, Songs for the Deaf has found its place as an album clearly indicative of that imperial moment when a group of musicians go all-in with the intention of creating their magnum opus, and that ambition is rewarded as soon as the gas pedal goes down in the album's intro. It'd be easy to call this dumb rock fun - it's sort of how I treat it as these days whenever I'm in the mood for it - but it's so much smarter than it lets on in how it builds its songs and lays its hooks, and those brains guiding the guitar-heavy brawn of the record is what makes it work so well. Turn the volume up, kick back and enjoy the ride.

True story: I went to a religious summer camp when I was a teenager as kids my age in my country back in the day did out of habit/peer pressure from our parents. One of the girls in my school class who I had spoken about music before also attended, and she borrowed me this album for a listen during the camp. It does amuse me how the most tangible memory I hold from that camp is that exchange and how this Christian excursion lead me to discover this album of all things.

Rating: 8/10

Peter McConnell - Grim Fandango: Original Game Soundtrack (1998)

1) Casino Calavera; 2) Swanky Maximino; 3) Smooth Hector; 4) Mr. Frustration Man; 5) Hector Steps Out; 6) Hi-Tone Fandango; 7) She Sailed Away; 8) High Roller; 9) Domino's in Charge; 10) Trouble with Carla; 11) Blue Casket Bop; 12) Manny's Office; 13) Rubacava; 14) Blue Hector; 15) This Elevator Is Slow; 16) Domino; 17) Don Copal; 18) Neon Ledge; 19) Nuevo Marrow; 20) Gambling Glottis; 21) Raoul Appears; 22) Scrimshaw; 23) Talking Limbo; 24) Coaxing Meche; 25) Lost Souls' Alliance; 26) Los Angelitos; 27) The Enlightened Florist; 28) Temple Gate; 29) Ninth Heaven; 30) Companeros; 31) Manny & Meche; 32) Bone Wagon

Like it says on the cover: big band, bebop and bones. But what if I don't like big band and bebop...

Key tracks: "Hi-Tone Fandango", "Lost Souls' Alliance", "Ninth Heaven"

My great musical crime which forever bars me from entering the cool kids club is that I don't like jazz. It's a genre I have literally zero emotional resonance with, unless it gets particularly bad at which point it becomes one of the few tangents in the wide world of music as an art form that I genuinely dislike; free jazz is something I can earnestly say I hate, and I very rarely use that word with music. This is a weight I've carried on my shoulders for decades and I don't see this changing, unless I end up with some kind of major head injury that rewires me from the ground up. Sorry, not sorry. The Grim Fandango soundtrack is as close to a jazz album as I'll probably ever come to own. The Rate Your Music genre listing for the album specifically breaks its influences down to bebop, smooth jazz, Latin jazz and big band among a few others - I couldn't really tell where one ends and another begins, but presumably it's somewhere within this diaspora where my brain finds some kind of an acceptable threshold. Or perhaps it's simply the bias shining, because this is the soundtrack one of my favourite greatest games of all time and that kind of association can pull a hefty weight.

Click-and-point adventure games were one of the first genres I remember falling in love with when I first encountered the medium of video games - I didn’t even understand English when I started playing them, but I was so enchanted by how they played in contrast to the platformer games I mostly associated with games at that point, that I played them with a dictionary by my side or meticulously determining what the words meant through context: I self-taught myself English long before school and I can genuinely attribute a good deal of my bilingualism to those games. Grim Fandango, released in 1998, is often cited as the last great hoorah for the genre, before it fell out of favour in the mainstream and its torch was passed down to the hands of European niche enthusiasts. If it were to be considered a swan song, then it is a spectacular closing act. Its setting is truly unique in gaming, it’s seasoned thoroughly with incredible writing and acting that lends it full of emotion (be it genuine laughs or actual gravitas) and the core gameplay - centered around your typical adventure game puzzles - are thoroughly entertaining and avoids many of the quirks the genre was criticsed for. Many games boast to be cinematic but this is always in reference to epic set pieces and fancy on-rails sections: Grim Fandango is like an incredible miniseries where the characters and the writing pull you in for a binge watch you’ll never forget. From the perspective of someone who grew up with the genre and who loves it dearly, Grim Fandango is absolutely one of its greatest peaks.

Grim Fandango’s world is a mishmash of 1930s art deco and the Mexican Day of the Dead, and so its soundtrack is also a meeting of two worlds. The lounge-y jazz vibes that have already been mentioned interact with Mexican folk music as the game moves from its swanky high roller locales towards the more folk-loric heart of the Mexican underworld, and the soundtrack does a splendid job fleshing out these incredibly contrasting surroundings. The jazz elements of the score are for large parts relatively restrained thanks to their purpose in describing the tone of the setting through sound, which prevents them from going off rails, and despite my genre allergy there are a number of songs here that I do appreciate because of their role in the game. “Hi-Tone Fandango” in particular is an iconic video game song for me, and though it may not sound much to anyone who hasn’t played the game, it’s a song that so vividly brings the listener back to its appointed locale if you have had the chance to wander the world with it tracing your steps. I can't say I'm too enamoured by most of the music here on its own, without the context, but I can enjoy it to the extent that it gives the world a faint hope that maybe my taste can be saved one day.

 
The special parts of the Grim Fandango score for me are the ones that lean heavier towards the Latin and Mexican influences. Peter McConnell's music is incredibly atmospheric throughout and while the jazz parts work with the film noir tension and high style aesthetics of Grim Fandango's world at its swankiest, the music that's more in line with the folklore heart of the game and feature the score's most beautiful and most atmospheric cuts.  The wistful optimism of “Ninth Heaven” is absolutely lovely and practically acts as the game's theme for me, and "Lost Souls' Alliance" actually benefits from being taken away from its context. It has a very slow pace and build and the area it plays in is normally heavy with dialogue, so hearing it on its own really helps appreciate just what a delightfully crafted thing it is. There are a few other genre hops scattered throughout that are delightful in their own ways, such as the psychedelic surf rock of "Bone Wagon" as well as the hilariously sadsack "Talking Limbo" which is almost kind of touching in its own special heartbroken sailor way.

If there is a principal reason as to why I don’t find myself tuning onto the Grim Fandango soundtrack as much as I might expect to given my reverence for the game, it’s not actually because of its genres of choice. Game music by its nature often behaves in loops, and I’m not a fan of when soundtracks squeeze the songs in by limiting the loops they go through; and so my largest complaint about the Grim Fandango OST is how most of its 32 songs are gone in 1-2 minutes. Many of these songs would be good enough to have warranted a few runs through their central loop, to let the songs and the melodies linger around for a while for a greater impact; some of them are great to the point that limiting them to a quick 1-minute round feels practically unfair and like you're being robbed out of the full portion. There are obviously also songs within that extensive that don’t stand out as much, sometimes intentionally, but when those songs are the same length as the more essential tracks you specifically listen to this soundtrack for, it ends up highlighting the less engaging sentiment of the former while at the same time failing to give justice to the latter.

Which leads to the central dilemma. In the recent months I’ve been reviewing a number of video game soundtracks and I find them to be a challenging balancing act full of pitfalls. By default I dislike the notion to treat soundtracks differently to any other music - you have a reasonable argument in how the context of playing the game bears such a heavy impact when considering the music, but as music listeners we imprint our own contexts to so many "normal" albums that it feels like a moot point. But it’s soundtracks like Grim Fandango’s that throw me off my own high horse. I appreciate the music because of the reverence I hold for the game, but it feels practically impossible to reconcile that with how so much of this music I would probably turn off if not for those memories they evoke, and how even the great moments can sometimes pass by like they’re nothing of interest purely because the way they have been edited and presented in this collection. That’s an aspect that’s unique to soundtracks and it breaks my logic, and I've spent the days I've sketched out this review considering how much I actually enjoy this soundtrack. So I take a coward's way out and rate it somewhere in the middle of the spectrum: it's music that evokes a lot in me, but it's one of the soundtracks in my collection I probably listen to the least.

Rating: 6/10

Kent - Röd (2009)

1) 18:29-4; 2) Taxmannen; 3) Krossa allt; 4) Hjärta; 5) Sjukhus; 6) Vals för Satan (Din vän pessimisten); 7) Idioter; 8) Svarta linjer; 9) Ensamheten; 10) Töntarna; 11) Det finns inga ord

Kent redefine themselves by boldly pushing deeper towards a more electronic sound, with a record that's a deep and awe-inspiring journey.

Key tracks: "Vals för Satan (Din vän pessimisten)", "Svarta linjer", "Töntarna"

Kent were frustratingly quiet in media (even the Swedish Wikipedia articles for their works are miniscule, despite how huge they were in their own country) so there's rarely any contextual information available to gain a further understanding on how each album came to be. There is however a particular interview from 2009 which confirms a couple of points behind the process for Röd. One is that Kent were getting increasingly fascinated with the idea of merging a rock band with an electronic act to the point where you couldn't see the seams: 2007's Tillbaka till samtiden had been the first taste of this direction and now the band were hungry for more and eager to take it further. The other tidbit is that during the recording of the album the band actively wanted to ignore their past, not just their own discography but by also refusing to listen to any old favourites that had historically inspired them - the only music they personally consumed during the sessions was music that was being created in the present day by brand new artists. Kent wanted to create a version of themselves who were completely in the moment, free of any prior baggage.

Röd is Kent's moment of epiphany. Tillbaka till samtiden had started out as just another reactionary move in a series of albums defined by such, but its more electronic sound had resonated with the band more than they or anyone anticipated. Everything clicked and Kent found themselves at the start of a whole new path, and so they went all in on it. Röd was recorded in Berlin's Hansa studio which has become synonymous with artists seeking to reinvent themselves in particularly modern ways, and Röd bears all the hallmarks of a so-called "Berlin album": dense production, highly modern or even futuristic soundscapes, the artist diving deep into a new direction in a quest to reconfigure their music. It's somewhat ironic that when seeking nothing but modernity the band ended up seeking inspiration in a place where many others have sought out the exact same as they did, but the magic worked once more. After a lifetime of constant change, Kent finally figured themselves out.

Whether it's because of the ghosts of Hansa or the more battle-minded confidence brought on by the decision to really drill into the electronic soundscapes, Röd acts like it has everything to prove and it has come prepared for it. It's an album in the very sense of the word: a tightly written and cohesively built journey where all the peaks and valleys form a clear narrative, where songs flow carefully into one another and where every twist and turn is meticulously planned. There's even a bonafide intro - Kent's first and only - and its commoner church choir is a beguiling start, leading cunningly into the synth scatter and aggressive disco beat of "Taxmannen". Röd has been designed from the ground up to be a powerful whole, but not at the expense of songs. There are no weaker tracks that only work as the bridges between the heftier cuts, but rather each song is meant to be an individual Moment that continues the the emotional and musical heights of what came immediately before. Each song is a a standout that avoids obvious or conventional pathways towards their climax point, throwing curveballs and revealing new facets of themselves. Each track feels important. 

None perhaps more than "Vals för Satan (Din vän pessimisten)". When Kent held the album's launch party and livestreamed the concert, "Vals för Satan" served as the opener and the introduction to the world of Röd despite being the album's literal centerpiece - but it was nothing if not appropriate, because it's the sound of Kent's present and future distilled. It's where the strains of rock and electronic sound embrace most intimately in the way the Kent dreamed, where the deep synthesizer layers combine with the muscle of a band playing in the same room, unfurling into an intricate and exhilirating colossus of a song. It's a phenomenal song that threatens to become gigantic - and for a brief moment becomes so as its second chorus explodes - but which deconstructs and folds into itself in burning tension at the verge of becoming a stadium anthem. That tension, subtly shifting through its synth loops and a steady rhythmic backbone before it can't hide anymore, is its heart and hearing it beat was and still is a something that sends shivers.

Its strengths are emblematic of Röd as a whole. Röd rivals Du & jag döden as Kent's absolute peak and it's so interesting because of how different these two albums are sonically: one drenched in empassioned guitars and the other navigating through cold synthesizers. But both are connected through how determined they are, finding Kent at a time and place where they felt they needed to define themselves as they steered their sound into very specific places. Both are also incredibly emotional albums that climb to incredible heights, but for Röd that emotion is pure and cold ambition and the climaxes are result of a "Vals för Satan" -like tension bubbling until it pours over with vindication and vitality. Röd is the kind of album that you perhaps don't lose yourself in emotionally like you may have done for Du & jag döden, but rather it reveals something surprising and equally awe-striking at every given opportunity. What just happened, how did that just happen, where the hell is it going to go next - and even when you know the answers, Röd still overwhelms by its denseness and, quite frankly, its audacity.

I have a lot of love for the first half of Röd - "Taxmannen" and "Krossa allt" are an inseparable dynamite duo that sets the tone and velocity of the record impressively, "Hjärta" swells and thunders in its heartrending orchestral-adjacent anguish and "Sjukhus" patiently speeds towards its free-fall of an ending in an enviably confident manner. But because the album's flow is a carefully thought out narrative, its first chapters are essentially just the slow introduction of Kent's new style of play and a tease for what's to come. After "Vals för Satan" reveals the hand in full, the rest of Röd keeps laying on the trump cards. "Idioter" and "Svarta linjer" are the closest to classic Kent rock songs the record has to offer but translated into the new language; "Svarta linjer" would have been massive in any form it would have received thanks to its fantastic call-and-answer hook that goes on for the entire song and its stunning launch into its full form, but here it sounds practically pristine as the heavy production lifts for a moment and gives the song the space it needs to spread it wings. And if the flight of "Svarta linjer" is majestic and controlled, the hectic rave cascade that "Ensamheten" breaks down into is a mad dash all over the place, raising a whirlwind. 

"Töntarna" was released as the lead single for Röd and it served as a very strong statement of intent- now in full context, in its place hidden away towards the end, it sounds perhaps even weirder than it did all on its own. It's a crooked and twisted pop song, ultimately revolving around a big chorus with some serious groove to it and featuring a series of snappy hooks (that added percussion melody in the second verse is so simple it's kind of ingenius), but it's been turned so inward and shying away from any light that it's barely recognisable as such. The rigid and mechanical rhythms, the distorted textures draping the background and Berg's multi-tracked and processed vocals lend it an air of uneasiness and even when it starts letting its hair down towards the end, the extended finale is more akin to deliriously falling down through a rabbit hole than any kind of sweet release. It's a fascinating song and there's nothing else like it in Kent's catalogue: tucked away as track ten of its parent album, it sees Röd bringing out its demons before they're done away with, the dark undercurrents of the record manifested into a singular weird-ass song.  

That makes "Det finns inga ord" the actual exorcism of those demons. I've always viewed the song in parallel to the closer for Tillbaka till samtiden, "Ensammast i Sverige" - they inhabit the same slot in the tracklist and are the longest songs on their respective records, they're both driven by a striking drum loop and they both offer a moment of reflection and peace after the swerves of what came before. The key difference is that where "Ensammast in Sverige" kept its cool throughout its length, "Det finns inga ord" gathers the courage to blossom. It's the most conventionally beautiful song across the entire Röd, with no tension or overwhelming denseness to speak of: it simply blooms from a petite melody into a declaration of love the size of the universe. At the end of such a dizzying album, it offers the serenity to guide the listener to take in everything they have just heard, while covering the dark sky with the most beautiful colours in such a vast scope. It's the most "normal" thing on the entire album but it's at the exact right spot where that makes all the difference, and it ends Röd with grace.

In my review for Du & jag döden - Kent's other all-time classic record - I acknowledged it as the record where Kent perfected what they as a band stand for: in tone, in emotion, in resonance. Röd does that again, but more concretely in terms of sound. If Tillbaka till samtiden had left a more ambiguous cliffhanger impression of whether Kent would go electronic again afterwards, Röd clarified that intent. It did it so strongly in fact that from here on in Kent would be a mix of rock band dynamics and tightly programmed backing tracks until their very end, sometimes emphasising one end over the other but always very clearly using the same model. Kent were a band that spent a lot of their first decade of albums constantly shifting shape either by evolving or shedding skin, and Röd finally fixed them in their place. That shouldn't be seen as a slight against Röd because, well, I don't blame them - this particular sound does fit Kent absolutely perfectly no matter how much I love their guitar heydays, and Röd itself is an incredibly impactful album. It's a phoenix at the moment of its rebirth, bursting in glorious flames and showcasing its new self with pride and confidence: it's Kent creating a singular piece of work that accurately reflects how seismic and important its creation felt for the band. Röd is Kent finding that glimmer of perfection once more, with a truly rewarding, deep record.

Rating: 9/10

Kent - Box 1991 - 2008 (2008)

CD1: Kent (1995) + Bonus tracks: 12) Döda dagar; 13) Håll i mig (Jones och Giftet); 14) Ögon (Jones och giftet); 15) Klocka (Havsänglar); 16) Cirkel (Havsänglar)
CD2: Verkligen (1996) + Bonus tracks: 11) Saker man ser (Demo); 12) Alpha (Demo); 13) Din skugga (Demo)

CD3: Isola (1997) + Bonus tracks: 12) OWC (Live); 13) Celsius (Live)
CD4: Hagnesta Hill (1999) + Bonus tracks: 14) Inhale/Exhale (Demo)

CD5/6: B-Sidor 95-00 (2000)
CD7: Vapen & ammunition (2002) + Bonus tracks: 11) Vintervila; 12) Lämnar; 13) VinterNoll2; 14) Socker (Demo); 15) Love Undone (Demo)

CD8: Du & jag döden (2005) + Bonus tracks: 12) M; 13) Välgärninger & illdad; 14) Nihilisten; 15) Alla mot alla

CD9: The hjärta & smärta EP (2005) + Bonus tracks: 6) Nålens öga 

CD10: Tillbaka till samtiden (2007) + Bonus tracks: 12) Min värld; 13) Tick tack; 14) Det kanske kommer en förändring; 15) Ingenting (Demo); 16) Håll dit huvudt högt (Live Eskilstuna 2008)

A great career (so far) retrospective box set for a great band, with enough treats for the fans too.

Key tracks: Of the bonus material, "Håll i mig", "Nålens öga", "Det kanske kommer en förändring"

Following the closure of one chapter and the start of a new one in their career, Kent continued to avoid releasing any kind of a standard greatest hits package, and instead celebrated the milestone with a box set collecting together the first decade and a half of their career: the evolution from scrappy angst-rock wannabes to stadium-sized hit makers and stylistic chameleons stubbornly doing exactly what their instincts told. I managed to score this suspiciously cheap in nearly brand new condition, and I still consider that as one of the best music deals I’ve come across when it comes to getting your money’s worth.

Part of the box set experience is the physical wonder, and the Kent box ticks this pretty well. The overall design is minimalistally sleek and stylish rather than lavish and glamorous: the ten CDs are stored a sleek, compact box within a slipcase, and the discs have their own slipcases that feature minor re-designs of the original cover art to create a shared aesthetic within the box. It's not a box set that may not particularly wow in presentation, but it looks and feels just right for the band and their general restraint. The obligatory companion booklet is pleasantly thick and informative: you’ll need to brush up on your Swedish to read through the band’s chronological and often irreverent take on their own career path as each era gets a quick behind-the-scenes glance, and given Kent aren't exactly reknown for talking to the press, the information here is fan gold. Together with other interesting trivia e.g. setlist samples across the band's history, it's a solid retrospective and a great backdrop for what matters the most, i.e. the music.

I've reviewed the albums separately and you can find the links to the individual reviews in the tracklist so there’s little point in repeating myself - the gist is, by 2008 Kent had become a great band who had been responsible of plenty of great albums and classic songs, with a few wobbles along the way  Thus, from a fan perspective the main hook here will be the bonus material, and it's much better than some of the tracklist initially might read as. The b-sides for the first four albums were already collected in B-Sidor 95-00 which is included here anyway, and so the first half’s somewhat scarce bonus material mainly focuses on demos and live cuts - but don't let that think they're not something worthwhile. The big snag are the handful of recordings from Kent’s early incarnations Jones och Giftet and Havsänglar, and they are shockingly good - the recording quality is shoddy but the early 90s alternative/indie sound is great and as songs they are more interesting from an arrangement and melodic perspective than most of the 1995 debut album. It's actually weird how the band almost regressed from their initial versions when they started recording their proper debut album (based on these carefully selected excerpts), and if the debut had more songs like "Håll i mig" I'd be singing a different tune about it. 

 

 

The other demos have been selected carefully to show aspects that haven’t been heard in public before, and they aren't just scruffy versions of familiar songs as one might expect. A handful of Isola era songs look to have been originally conceived much earlier and so the demo for "Saker man ser" sounds far more intimate when featuring just Joakim Berg and his drum machine, and the demo for “Din skugga” has none of the studio version's guitar walls and instead has an (synth-)orchestral backing that echoes the 2009 single "Hjärta". The later demos follow suite, with "Socker" being similarly intimate to "Saker man ser" but now with an entire section of lyrics that were scrapped from the final version (we finally a get title drop!) and "Ingenting" driving in the style change as even the home demo goes all in on the electronic flourishes. The rest of the bonus material for the first four albums revolves around the band’s ill-advised attempt at cracking the English market: the live recordings of "OWC" and "Celsius" are the English versions of the songs, and you also have demos for the previously unreleased “Inhale/Exhale” and later on “Love Undone” (an English version of Vapen & ammunition’s “Duett”). The new songs recorded for the English version of Hagnesta Hill haven’t been included (one of the box set’s very few exclusions), but the English material that is presented proves really strongly how much Berg struggles with singing in English with his practically incomprehensible enunciation, and I genuinely do not think we are missing anything from hearing less of it. If anyone ever wishes Kent would sing in English so they could understand it, just point them to these songs as a counter-point.

Nonetheless, the albums from Vapen & ammunition onwards get inarguably more rewarding with the bonus material as the box set acts as a chance to compile all the b-sides and non-album singles from these periods together. There are some great songs among those: all four of the Du & jag döden b-sides are practically essential to any fan of the album as they retain both the sound and the quality of the record, and the beautifully deep and atmospheric "Det kanske kommer en förändring" is a stunningly good scene-setter, lush in rich keyboards that coat Berg's voice in distant dreaminess. The non-album singles, the Rock Band favourite "VinterNoll2" with its urgent guitar energy and the wistfully ethereal "Nålens öga", would have been real album highlights had they ever appeared on any, and this is the only release outside the actual singles where you can find them. There's also one brand new song in form of a live version of "Håll dit huvudt högt", which was never recorded in studio and so this is the only time it ever appears in Kent's discography. Given how Kent-by-numbers it is that's no real surprise and making it one of the box set's selling points feels rather rough, but it's still a thoroughly enjoyable song: a dictionary example of a song that introduces literally nothing new to the band who wrote it (some of the melodies are so familiar I had to check they weren't circulated to other songs), but the familiar ingredients create an enjoyable, if a very safe, tune.

The long and short of this is that if you're still stuck in the CD era, Box 1991 - 2008 is a great way to get hold of a little over the first half of Kent's back catalogue (if you're even able to easily find this anymore). If you're a big enough fan to consider getting the box even if you own everything already, then the bonus material is worth it for the latter day b-sides alone, alongside the genuinely interesting demos. Kent have always done their utmost best to avoid cheap retrospectives (even the compilation that did arrive after they called it a day is so irrational that it feels like intentionally flipping the bird), and the box set reflects that well, with clear care to attention in place and not just chucking any old recordings as blatant fan grabs to listen to once and forget immediately. I don't think my average rating for the albums will quite match the rating for this box, but that extra boost is for the full package and the value it has. It acts like a real history tour, told in music - and so, I give my eternal kudos to whoever priced this at around €30 within months from release at my then-local record shop.

Rating: 9/10

Kent - Tillbaka till samtiden (2007)

1) Elefanter; 2) Berlin; 3) Ingenting; 4) Vid din sida; 5) Columbus; 6) Sömnen; 7) Vy från ett luftslott; 8) Våga vara rädd; 9) LSD, någon?; 10) Generation ex; 11) Ensammast i Sverige

Kent embrace synths and accidentally reinvent themselves, confident and atmospheric.

Key tracks: "Elefanter", "Ingenting", "Columbus"

Kent’s discography can be divided between their pre-2007 and post-2007 output, or pre- and post-Tillbaka till samtiden. I imagine Kent themselves didn’t intend their seventh album’s influence to reach so far: the choice to utilise more synthesisers and programmed elements and to de-emphasise guitars was initially a strictly reactionary move, following the excessive (as described by the band) use of guitars on the last record as well as the amicable and coincidental departure of rhythm guitarist Harri Mänty. Unexpectedly to everyone, the album had an impact deep enough that the second half of Kent’s story would follow in its footsteps, with the sound world of Tillbaka till samtiden becoming such an integral part of Kent that the early albums became almost a distant memory. 

In retrospect, Tillbaka till samtiden is still a clear transitional phase for Kent. It’s synth pop, but as interpreted by a rock band: the style is new but the songs still follow Kent’s typical songwriting style, the insistent kick beats drill the rhythm right down to the spine like a dance track but they're still live drums even if processed within an inch of their lives, and there's still guitars and the songs that feature them most prominently (“Generation Ex”, “Berlin”, “LSD, någon?”) could have slotted in the previous albums without too many difficulties. Electronic elements and synth sounds were never unfamiliar to Kent either, and Tillbaka till samtiden is perhaps best thought as the logical end point where the band would have journeyed eventually anyway. In other words, it’s not quite the radical departure that it would seem like at a first glance and the biggest contributor to any shock factor is the simple fact that it follows Du & jag döden, the dense and epic guitar climax of their back catalogue - it's the contrast that's unusual, not the actual change.

The big difference instead between Kent as they were and Kent now is how comfortably the band find themselves settling in their new skin. No wonder they shifted their scope after this album because it becomes abundantly clear across Tillbaka till samtiden that Kent have managed to locate their comfort zone, sitting somewhere between the alternative rock ideals they made their name with and a more directly hitting and sleekly produced synth sound they were clearly inspired by, and which they had tested in the past but hadn’t nailed to their own satisfaction. That isn't to say the previous albums weren't truly Kent, but there is a kind of reactionary restlessness to them that in hindsight is identifiable as a band in search of their own place, uncertain about ever standing still. In contrast it's remarkable just how naturally the stylistic decisions made here work with the band's songwriting style and how at ease they sound in this environment; it comes across as beautifully balanced. There's still that sharpness and edge of their guitar days, even during the parts of the album where Kent are fulfilling their fantasy of what they’d do if they were in charge of a Depeche Mode or a Pet Shop Boys record. Something like "Vid din sida” is what happens when the disco drive of the earlier hit “Musik non stop” stumbles onto a cyber goth club, and the new instrumental decisions lend well to such curveballs. 

It's also an incredibly atmospheric and scene-setting album. The entire record sounds like takes place in hazy twilight or in a faintly glowing cold winter's night, and the music is dipped in thick textures conjured by the band's now-favoured synthesizer shifts: it conjures images of foggy deserted streets bathing in moonlight, late night drives staring at the city lights through the passenger window and quiet corners of dark clubs. Some tracks play off it more than others, but the feel is strong enough throughout that it's undoubtedly my favourite aspect of Tillbaka till samtiden. It's thoroughly appropriate to consider it visual album in how vividly its sound paints these associations and images (some imaginary, some based on real life moments); and by the looks of it even Kent thought it so. The booklet is nearly entirely dedicated to various atmospheric and striking photographs, and through the haunting freeze-frame poses in the music video for "Ingenting" and the arresting urban imagery in the one for "Columbus", Kent brushed off their old generic rock band videos and became a visually arresting group with their latter day music videos (though the other two singles didn't fare as well admittedly, with the live-in-studio footage of "Generation ex" and a remix of "Vy från ett luftslott" receiving a compilation of public commons media remixed into a competent Youtube fan video). It's, once again, a sign of growth as a band, taking the steps to form a wider context around the music, developing aesthetic choices to emphasise the music while creating songs that outright invite for strong visual counterparts.

It's particularly on the first half where all these aspects - the synthetic atmosphere, the electronic motion, the rock band strength -  are in balance. "Elefanter" continues Kent's streak of classic openers as it cycles through all the album's motions one after another, its sunset horizon gazing of a start shifting into distorted frustration and ultimately a bold and awe-inspiring horn-accentuated finale. It's a beautiful thing to witness and it's an opener that sticks from the very first time you hear it, and it leads onto a real gold streak. The high-speed thrill of "Berlin", the phenomenal lead single "Ingenting" that introduced the album so perfectly and still sounds like the record's purest distillation of its ideals with its foreboding tension and the insistently powerful piano hook, the pounding of "Vid din sida" and the breathtaking dark night of the soul ballad "Columbus" is a hell of power play, one after another. Many of these are instant classics, with "Elefanter", "Ingenting" and especially "Columbus" - exploding in quiet, piercingly human melancholy as its synth walls swell so hauntingly - immediately making the case that Kent have practically levelled up as they've started this new life of theirs.

There's a clear halfway break point to the album, brought by the linked couplet of "Sömnen" and "Vy från ett luftslott": the former's ambient dreamscape takes the atmospheric production to its furthest and also serves as the extended prelude to the latter's lightweight bounciness, from which point the album itself tones down the soundscapes and returns to a more familiarly dynamic Kent territory. It's a great second half too, with the charged and cruising "Våga vara rädd" riding another set of excellent horn section hooks and the impeccably stylish "Generation ex" having the kind muscular liveliness that serves the album well as it nears its end. "LSD, någon?" took the longest to grow and it's still perhaps the album's weak link, as great as it admittedly gets when it goes off the rails towards its end - it's the clearest bridge to Du & jag döden and nearly juts out because of it, but really its issue is just the fact that it takes a long, long time to get to somewhere really exciting. "Ensammast i Sverige" tides the album over towards its break of dawn after the long gloomy night, its knowingly dramatic heartbreak carried by a thudding beat around which guitars, organs and synthesizers swirl over and over as the credits roll and the narrator walks alone into the early hours of the morning. It's a confidently controlled miniature masterpiece - this album's Kent epic but not necessarily in size (even if in length, still), but rather in its emotional vastness. It’s a beautiful closer, and its relative restraint is another example of the confidence and comfort Kent have found while moving to different waters.

Unlike many transitional records, Tillbaka till samtiden is the point when the band found the last puzzle piece they were looking for rather than the awkward in-between phase, and that’s why it’s stood the test of time so brilliantly. Timewarping back to the mid-late 2000s, this was an era where a great number of rock acts discovered that a solid way to break out of a creative rut was to trade guitars to synthesizers and keyboards. Most of the time these resulted in an odd singular album or two at most, which the bands would then turn their backs on afterwards before launching into your usual return-to-roots records - and at the time it felt like Kent too were jumping onto this exact same trend. Tillbaka till samtiden was a great album back then too, but it's really gained a finer side through age and that's because unlike so many of its stylistic peers, Kent integrated those new sounds into their own heart and soul rather than simply treating them as an aesthetic choice. As a transitional record it perhaps loses some of its due attention to its siblings on both sides, but the atmospheric, evocative qualities of Tillbaka till samtiden are unmatched in Kent's discography.

Rating: 8/10

Neoangin - A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World (2001)

1) A Life in a Day; 2) A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World; 3) Let Your Money Work for You; 4) The Plot; 5) Under the Plasticsink; 6) Celebrity Bones; 7) Girl with Attitude; 8) I Like to Be Somebody Else; 9) The Nightbus; 10) Poor Living; 11) Under Bad Influence; 12) Guess My Name; 13) Flu; 14) Man Who Brought Light into Darkness; 15) Everything Comes Back; 16) The Shop Detective; 17) Das Feuilleton Groovt Mit; 18) The Unfriendly World; 19) Are You Happy; 20) The Happy Hour; 21) The Blind Passenger; 22) Daydream; 23) 2 Sides of a Coin; 24) Trouble Couple; 25) Hall of Fame of Selfexploitation; 26) San Antonio; 27) Playing on the Piano of New Media; 28) Don't Take Money from Anyone; 29) All Fucked Up; 30) The Long Goodbye; 31) Give Me a Platform; 32) Walnut Kitten; 33) Another Day in Another Life

A cartoon potpourri of quirky melodies and kitschy grooves, that could have perhaps benefited from a bit more of a focus. 

Key tracks: "A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World", "Everything Comes Back", "Walnut Kitten"

I ended up with a copy of this album largely by happenstance when a friend of mine was doing some collection spring cleaning by way of shoving me a ton of their CDs they didn't have room for anymore, and in lieu of actual knowledge a quick Internet search tells me that Jim Avignon - aka Neoangin - is a German do-it-all artisté (with the signature hat to match the accent on the stress, based on various photos) who mashes up cartoons, painting, music and performance art into a concoction that seems to have given him some degree of fame in Germany. Which makes perfect sense, because A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World is precisely the kind of music you'd expect from that kind of an artist.

The channel-hopping 33 songs and fifty minutes of A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World is a potpourri of kitschy sounds, MIDI production jobs and happy-go-lucky sing-along melodies, with a dash of lamentations on the weight of the modern world thrown in for good measure, sung with a heavy German accent. Avignon's world is a realm of bright colours, cardboard backdrops and cartoon animals, and Neoangin is his interpretation of pop music: the songs average on 1:30 to 2 minutes, most of them gleefully blur the borders between what's an interlude and what isn't, with blink-and-you-miss-it segues scattered liberally throughout. Avignon doesn't leave any room for subtlety or development - songs smack the listener right out of the gate with their most obvious, catchiest hooks and then either repeat it until they stick or until the next song suddenly appears. The lyrics try to aim for something deeper, with a prominent use of the traditional twist of introspective lyrics on top of deceptively upbeat music, but Avignon's bone-dry, barely-singing delivery makes them just as oddbeat as the musical backdrop; it's urban environment adulthood anxiety, if you happen to live in Toontown instead of New York. It's all very ridiculous, but also often genuinely charming or lovable.

My problem with A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World is perhaps more to do with me than the album itself, and it's that as a music listener I have issues keeping my attention span focused with quickfire snippet albums such as this. It's too much information in too small of a span of time and while I do appreciate that the manic nature of the record does fit with its music, in practice the album becomes a singular formless blob of music that moves from one thing to another so quickly I can't fully register the songs as they breeze past. Which, perhaps arguably, may as well be the point but while the melodies ring familiar to me when they play, it's another thing for them to actually stick. The primary exceptions for this are near the start and the end, and to some extent that's simply because they're the first and last things you hear when the record is on, but there's an argument that the bookends of the record are its most developed songs. The title track in particular is the most perfect pop song Avignon presents across the entire extended medley of a record and it's a genuinely great little ditty that, even if only two minutes in length, sounds more fleshed out and finished than anything else on the record. "Walnut Kitten" on the other end sticks out because of its calmer and more graceful touch. There are a few moments throughout the album where its facade as a goofy cartoon jumble cracks and Avignon almost sheepishly creates something more serious (the central third in particular is rich in this vein), and the three-minute "Walnut Kitten" takes that to its logical conclusion right at the end and acts as the comedown for the fifty-odd minutes preceding it: the friendly dog kicking off his shoes and slumping in his lazy chair after another long day in the unfriendly world. It's a lovely instrumental which allows Avignon to showcase that he is actually a really good composer and arranger in a way that the rest of the album's quick flashes necessarily doesn't do justice to, and tonally it feels like the right way to end the record. 

That isn't to say that the rest of the album lacks memorability - "Everything Comes Back" with its chill frolic vibe in particular comes to mind - just that it's harder to to grab onto the great parts in the chaotic jumble of interludes, segues and speedrunning melodies. As said before that's an "it's not you, it's me" situation, and the manic colourful rush through the album's running length does befit Avignon's aesthetic and the tone of the songs: at the same time, the handful of songs that sound like their own thing instead of just a segment of a wider whole make a convincing argument that Avignon could have made a stellar 30-40 minute album just by focusing on those (and maybe he has and I'm unaware of it). The rambliness of A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World is what ultimately makes it a thoroughly charming curio rather than an actually great record for me - an album that I appreciate in its aesthetic and vibe more than I actually adore musically. But that said, I don't often get to say this about albums with such cartoony cover art, but A Friendly Dog in an Unfriendly World sounds exactly like it looks - and that alone is something worth cherishing.

Rating: 7/10

Various Artists - World of Warcraft OST (2004)

1) Main Title: Legends of Azeroth; 2) The Shaping of the World; 3) Legacy; 4) Song of Elune; 5) Echoes of the Past; 6) A Call to Arms; 7) Intro Movie: Seasons of War; 8) Stormwind; 9) Orgrimmar; 10) The Undercity; 11) Thunder Bluff; 12) Darnassus; 13) Ironforge; 14) Elwynn Forest; 15) Duskwood; 16) Dun Morogh; 17) Burning Steppes; 18) Shimmering Flats; 19) Felwood; 20) Stranglethorn Vale; 21) Tanaris; 22) Teldrassil; 23) Tavern; 24) Moonfall; 25) Ruins; 26) Temple; 27) Lurking; 28) Sacred; 29) Graveyard; 30) War

Fantasy ambient for a nostalgic world.

Key tracks: "Stormwind", "Dun Morogh"

World of Warcraft really isn't the kind of game I ever expected to pick up, much less enjoy, but a bored download of the free trial in the uneventful months between my high school/college (the Finnish equivalent, anyway) graduation and my first real job in my late teens turned out far more differently than I expected. Getting lost in the unbelievably vast world of Azeroth and its countless nooks and crannies ready to be explored tapped into something I hadn't really experienced in games before, at least not in this scale. To go into the exact details why the old school WoW became something special for me - and why it still holds up, as I write this in 2021 after a few weeks of returning to Azeroth in the form of WoW Classic -  would take up too much space in what is meant to be a music review, but just to be clear on the context here: WoW could probably and unexpectedly find itself in my all time favourite games list, maybe not because of its mechanics and certainly not the writing, but because of how it made me feel. Its music is therefore the soundtrack to me falling in love with a virtual world and the countless hours spent there, sometimes simply just sitting on a lonely beach somewhere and soaking in the atmosphere as the music quietly played in the background.

Stylistically WoW's soundtrack is what you'd expect from a fantasy game, with orchestral swells, booming choirs and the like: if you have played a fantasy game or watched a fantasy film in a post-Lord of the Rings film trilogy world, you know what to expect here. What makes WoW's soundtrack a little different is that because it's a massive multiplayer game rather than a linear single player experience, the music isn't built around a guided journey or dramatic story beats. Rather, these songs are meant to accompany the player in more open-ended adventures as they wander around the many biomes of the game doing whatever it is that they fancy doing on that particular day, for the people to create their own context for these songs rather than the music backing particular scenes. Most of the music therefore lingers more than it thrills, slowly building the atmosphere and setting the overall tone for the areas they feature in. Many of the original game’s zones also share the same tracks despite how some of them have been named after particular areas, so very few of these songs are actually tied to particular themes and instead they operate by mood: some more pastoral and inviting, others evoking desolate landscapes and some building up tension. The typical high fantasy bombast is primarily reserved for the game’s faction capital cities which do have their unique themes - purpose built to make new players feel that they've taken their first real step in their epic adventure as they step through the gates of these grand hubs where they can encounter hundreds of other heroes.

It is therefore a score that isn’t really memorable per se in terms of catchy melodies, but by letting the mood linger it installs a sense of familiarity to the songs through how omnipresently they underline the events on the screen. I don't enjoy this soundtrack because it's back to back bangers, I enjoy it because so many of the songs here take me instantly back to my own memories of the game, to my own personal experiences that they soundtracked. WoW’s music practically begs to be nostalgia fodder for the hours you spent listening to the songs idly in the background while wandering the endless roads in wonder or spending more time than you wanted hunting down that goddamn elusive last quest item drop. Out of the many, many game soundtracks I have downloaded or owned during my lifetime, WoW's music is one of the most comfortable listening experiences I own even though I’d struggle to hum most of these songs. It's at times beautiful and full of wonder, but ultimately the reason it works is because of the sensory memories it evokes. In contrast, there's a number of "exclusive tracks" included to pad out the soundtrack disc - miscellaneous pieces which use the same musical guidestones as the rest of the soundtrack to portray more elaborate and purposefully crafted songs. They're not bad songs by all means, but if there's a flaw to this particular collection it's these cuts that appear briefly, if at all, in the main game itself as they are closer to your standard indistinguishable fantasy music fare without the benefit of the direct association with the game itself. An outsider to the game wouldn't bat an eyelid about their inclusion, but by being present next to the rest of the actual soundtrack does illustrate just how much more resonant the in-game music is.

Thus, scoring this particular release is slightly awkward because it's not exactly something I simply pick up and play and it ticks all the boxes for your usual only-for-the-big-fans soundtrack experience; compare this to for example the Wrath of the Lich King expansion soundtrack from the same people a few years later, which is simply a genuinely great soundtrack from a composition point alone and serves as a direct contrast to how the original scores is more about its mood than it is about the arrangements or songcraft. But having gone back to the game recently once more now that Blizzard have made its original form available to the public again (for those who haven’t played the game, it changed over the years and the expansions), I've realised just how much of the world's magic is in the music alone. The familiar places, characters and quests have been wonderful to experience again, but it's the music that really makes me feel at home. I might not be able to express directly how most of these songs sound apart from describing the general mood and tone of them ("Stormwind" and "Ironforge" are the main exceptions when it comes to “the hooks”, and not coincidentally they are the themes for the two biggest capitals), but the sheer serotonin that these orchestral ambient cuts provide at the best of times is immeasurable.

Rating: 7/10

Kent - The hjärta & smärta EP (2005)

1) Vi mot världen; 2) Dom som försvann; 3) Ansgar & Evelyne; 4) Flen/Paris; 5) Månadens erbjudande

The epilogue for the Du & jag döden chapter - more of the same with diminishing returns.

Key tracks: "Dom som försvann", "Ansgar & Evelyne"

The phrase “victory lap” originates from racing sports, where the winner of the race drives an extra lap as a form of celebration and to give the audience a chance to congratulate them. In context of music, the connotations for the term tend to be inconsistent - it’s used for referring to releases that follow a successful album without changing things too much, but it differs from person to person whether it’s used in a positive (more of the same great stuff, yay!) or negative (a comfortable if safe and unexciting follow-up) light, and I'm guilty of being just as wishywashy with my usage of it in the past. Released six months after Du & jag döden, The hjärta & smärta EP is without a doubt a victory lap for Kent, basking in the success of the preceding album where Kent perfected their guitar sound as it continues where the album left off. The immediate idea that this is Du & jag döden: The B-Sides is proven wrong by the mere virtue that those b-sides were already released with the actual singles (and they were all great, and honestly worth a check for anyone who loves the album), but the long and short of the EP is that it's five more songs of the same dramatic guitars and bombastic rock twists, pushed out into the world seemingly to give the era an epilogue of sorts. 

If there is a difference between the preceding album and The Hjärta & smärta EP, it's that the EP feels a little lighter. As the covers have changed from Du & jag döden’s black to the EP's angelic white, the songs have a little more levity to them. “Vi mot världen” has a glimpse of positive defiance to it, “Ansgar & Evelyne” gets close to euphoric when Berg lets his wordless vocals roam, and “Månadens erbjudande” almost sounds celebratory. But that’s vague at best, and by most parts The Hjärtä & smärta EP feels like a storage clearance for songs the band had in their pockets before moving onto the next record. In other words, as much as Kent were riding high on their imperial phase wave at this stage, the biggest fireworks had already been used up by this point and we're left with consistently enjoyable but not particularly essential material. The "single" of the EP “Dom som försvann” is about the only thing that acts like something that should be brought up when discussing Kent's discography: it’s the closest thing to Du & jag döden that the EP has both in sound with all its impassioned guitars and dark underpinnings, but also in quality. It also makes a terrific use of a children's choir, exchanging betlittlements with Berg's narrator and lending a song a slightly more twisted vibe that makes it a bit more unique within Kent's back catalogue. "Ansgar & Evelyne" is the other highlight of the set, a real beam of light in an otherwise musically melancholy year for Kent, lifting off with a little bit of hope into an effortlessly lovely chorus.

The other three songs inspire fewer ecstatic ramblings: "Vi mot världen" is up to the standards of the period even if not as striking as most of its peers, the speeding "Flen/Paris" doesn't have much to say for itself and is clearly the last thing the band dug out of their drawers for the EP, and "Månadens erbjudande" does have a little something special going on for it with its wedding dance atmosphere but despite a four-minute length it feels like it ends before it actually gets going. As songs they're fine, but run-of-the-mill. More of the same isn't a bad thing, especially in EP length, but The hjärta & smärta EP sees mostly diminishing returns for the style Kent had perfected on the preceding album. Which in reality means that there's no particular reason why I would turn to these five songs instead of Du & jag döden if I were in the mood for this particular era of Kent, given for most parts the songs aren't strong enough. It's a victory lap release: more of what made the previous album so great, but ultimately just there for the show.

Rating: 6/10

They Might Be Giants - A User's Guide to They Might Be Giants (2005)

1) Minimum Wage; 2) Meet James Ensor; 3) Particle Man; 4) Don't Let's Start; 5) She's an Angel; 6) Cyclops Rock; 7) Istanbul (Not Constantinople); 8) Purple Toupee; 9) James K. Polk; 10) Birdhouse in Your Soul; 11) Ana Ng; 12) The Guitar (The Lion Sleeps Tonight); 13) Bangs; 14) The Statue Got Me High; 15) New York City; 16) Doctor Worm; 17) Boss of Me; 18) Your Racist Friend; 19) Why Does the Sun Shine? (The Sun Is a Mass of Incandescent Gas); 20) They'll Need a Crane; 21) I Palindrome I; 22) Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head; 23) John Lee Supertaster; 24) Older; 25) We're The Replacements; 26) Dr. Evil; 27) No!; 28) Clap Your Hands; 29) Spider

An eclectic compilation for an eclectic group.

Key tracks: "Particle Man", "Ana Ng", "Birdhouse in Your Soul"

They Might Be Giants falls into the category of artists where I can understand why people love them so (they seem to be the one band that everyone in my social circles likes to some degree and who inspire a lot of adoration even among people who otherwise don't get geeky over music), but I can't necessarily relate to that myself. Compilations are my way of meeting halfway with artists like these, and for a part-time appreciator the benefit of A User's Guide to They Might Be Giants is that it really does hammer down how there's a lot more to John and John than just the affectionally nerdy twee pop ditties about obscure historical figures and events that they're arguably most associated with.

That desire for comprehensiveness is also what somewhat lets A User's Guide down, just to tackle the downsides first. They Might Be Giants wear many hats and this compilation wants to showcase them all: the ingenius pop wizards, the nerdy folk historians, the style experimenters, the soundtrack stars, the children's edutainers, the whole lot. I'm normally all for this kind of comprehensiveness, but some of these categories are stronger than others and so I just question the need for the barely-recognisable-as-TMBG "Dr. Evil" (from the Austin Powers OST - did anyone really think this was in any way essential to the film?) or four different entries from their children's music side adventures to be included here, particularly when really only "Why Does the Sun Shine?" feels substantial enough to merit inclusion. The compilation's tracklist has been organised to run according to Gaussian distribution based on the track lengths so that the shortest songs start and finish the disc, which works disturbingly well for most parts ("Minimum Wage" as a cold open kick is probably the best way to open this potpourri), but it hasn't stopped the compilers from oversaturating the end of the disc with a whole load of the collection's most inessential parts: meaning that in effect everything after "Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head" is complete filler and it spoils the mood. They Might Be Giants songs aren't particularly long for most part and this is one of these cases where 29 songs on a disc seems perfectly appropriate, but it's an album that still manages to outstay its welcome. It ends up rubbing in exactly why my dabblings in the band's studio albums have been less than successful, because there's always a throwaway novelty peeking its head around the corner. "Spider"? On a best of? Really?

 
On the plus side, the delight in A User's Guide is the recurring realisation of what a pair of sharp indie pop craftsmen lie behind They Might Be Giants. Underneath all the twee singalongs, TV features and the reputation as the ultimate nerd musical act, the fact that John & John are an incredibly talented and imaginative songwriting pair gets unfairly lost in the noise, and so the comprehensiveness of A User's Guide equally puts this in the spotlight. They're a duo who can more or less tackle anything through their sheer imagination on how to approach even the strangest ideas, and then pull it off via genuinely cunning writing. The marvellously smart and impeccably charming "Birdhouse of Your Soul" is obviously the perfect showcase for that - its cavalcade of layered vocals, sharp lyrics and heck of a load of hooks making it the most perfect and honest pop song the duo have ever pulled off and even then it sounds completely unique - but there's a lot here that matches its strengths. "Ana Ng", "Don't Let's Start" and "Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head" are brilliant pieces of quirky 80s art pop, which is the side of They Might Be Giants that tends to slip past the public consciousness the most, and certainly surprised me as someone who was mainly aware of their 90s catalogue and beyond. The later reinterpretations of the same ideas also work just as well, such as the delightfully unhinged "Cyclops Rock" (with a great Cerys Matthews cameo) or "I Palindrome I" which has so much more to it from a purely musical perspective than just its titular gimmick. A User's Guide keeps catching by surprise and it does it in a myriad of ways: whether because something is unexpectedly earnest, affectionate or direct ("New York City" is all three and could be a Magnetic Fields song), or you simply encounter a curveball you didn't see coming such as the cheeky interpolation of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" on "The Guitar". And of course, like any millennial who grew up with Tiny Toons, I too have a lot of love for "Particle Man" and "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" - the former a razor-sharp ditty jam-packed with wit and hooks in its 1:50 length, the latter a superbly fun cover that fits the They Might Be Giants brand so perfectly that it may as well have been theirs to begin with. Overexposed as they may be, they are genuinely great and evergreen, and a very good reason to keep hold of the compilation as-is.

The good absolutely outweigh the bad. There are probably better compilations of They Might Be Giants' collected works out there - real fans of the duo can answer that - but for a willfully casual listener this makes for a good selection of the songs that everyone mentions and the deep cuts you’re glad to get to know better. It is also, I think, sufficient to my needs. I'm not certain what the takeaway here is when I say that owning this, I've little desire to resume with my efforts to listen to more of the actual albums and I'm satisfied with that complacency - as much as there's a lot of quite frankly excellent material here, it feels like it's enough. A User's Guide does make a strong case of why They Might Be Giants could be someone's favourite band and I'd genuinely love to adore a group with such a witty writing pen (both lyrically and musically), but the first 22 songs here will do for me for the occasional revisit to their intriguing world.

Rating: 7/10

Kent - Du & jag döden (2005)

1) 400 slag; 2) Du är ånga; 3) Den dödä vinkeln; 4) Du var min armé; 5) Palace & Main; 6) Järnspöken; 7) Klåparen; 8) Max 500; 9) Romeo återvänder ensam; 10) Rosor & palmblad; 11) Mannen i den vita hatten (16 år senare)

Stark, dramatic, emotional and above all, focused - Kent take note of having become Sweden's biggest rock band and decide to create a record to match their status.

Key tracks: "400 slag", "Klåparen", "Mannen i den vita hatten (16 år senare)"

As it’s the first thing you’ll see (in the tangible world), a special mention goes out to how the physical version of Du & jag döden presents itself. To compliment the title ("You and I, death"), Kent dressed the record in an appropriate funeral wear. Not only is the booklet jet black, with the lyrics written in a font so small it's barely visible, but the jewel case itself is tinted black as well which means the artwork in reality looks much darker than on the image up there. The CD follows suite and the front label is completely black, but so is its underside and it's the only time I've seen a CD like it. It’s ultimately a simple trick, but it's done in such an over the top (and perhaps a bit blunt) way that it turns out to be a powerful one. It's dark and dramatic, guiding towards an album that in many ways is exactly that.

One of my many embarrassing musical confessions is that I spent a lot of time intentionally brushing Kent off to the side simply because of their choice to sing in their own tongue. In my early-to-mid teenage years full of musical hubris and preconceptions yet to be knocked down, I didn’t think Kent would ever genuinely resonate with me because I could barely understand the language. But I got better, and in good part thanks to Du & jag döden. Kent have always been the masters of the perfect opener song (I can’t honestly think of a band who rivals them in this department apart from R.E.M.), and “400 slag” was what tipped me over to the fan club. The true kick-off at the end of its lengthy intro, slowly building instrument by instrument atop a stone-cold rumbling bass before flashing into full bloom, was what got me to stop living in denial and start embracing the band on the spot. "400 slag" is the kind of a song that aims to leave an impression and the way it draws open is majestic to behold, as the band command the song’s immense sonic space effortlessly.

Du & jag döden lives by its dramatic flair, painting in grand dynamic strokes and marrying Kent's rock band streak with theatrically grand gestures. Much of it is in the lyrics of course - it's hilarious in hindsight that this became the album that finally got me into Kent after thinking I’d never be able to crack through the language barrier, even though you could argue it's a concept album with the amount of running themes it has going through it. Revising the liner notes with my barebones knowledge of Swedish and online translators in the present day, it’s clear just how much more importance Berg placed in his lyrical work here - the death that lurks around its lyric sheets is moreso the death of youthful innocence rather than literal demise, and it's a theme that repeats over and over again and inches more and more towards biographical as the album progresses. Much of the rest of the songwriting also acts like it highlights and underlines the lyrics, with the general flow of the songs built around Berg’s voice and the narrative and the impact he pushes. It's not a dark album, as much as it looks the part - but it is melancholy and aching, and treats them with grandeur.

 
But the power of Du & jag döden doesn't lie in its lyrics, but in how vividly the band translate those themes and feelings into the actual musical notes and arrangements. The impetus behind the record was to be a direct reaction against the previous album Vapen & ammunition, the super-slick, hyper-produced pop songs of which had started to grate the band after a few years of repeating them over and over on tour. Going into the follow-up Kent wanted to shake off any formulaic trappings and to write songs that wouldn't always repeat the same verse-chorus structures, to move away from production tricks and to reveal the humanity underneath the sound. Likewise, where Vapen & ammunition was intentionally a selection of disparate songs bound together by the same aesthetic, Kent were looking to write an album again: a set of songs with a common narrative told through chosen aesthetics, flow and tone. The guitars are back with a vengeance too after their relative backstage presence on the previous album, now louder in the mix and intricately layered with Kent taking full advantage of having at best three guitarists on stage where needed. The songs that ended up forming Du & jag döden are still big songs, fit for the large concert venues the band were now accustomed to, but they are being played with the gravitas that’s required to keep them close and personal. Melancholy and anxiety are almost triumphant topics in the world of alternative rock, and Kent embraced the inherent melodrama in that for Du & jag döden: guitar anthems for lost souls searching for something to hold onto.

Which means that while knowing what Berg sings is a great bonus and it helps the overall concept of the album to click, the resonance of the album's music alone is universal in nature. You don’t need to know the language to understand the weight under the emotionally detached maelstrom of "Klåparen" exploding into a rage of guitars, or to hear the personal importance behind "Mannen in den vita hatten" unfurling as the band speeds up past the string-laden bombast of its chorus and towards the finale where Berg begins to spill his guts out with such intensity it practically becomes a rant. It's a record that wears its heart on display on its sleeve exposed and awaiting, its melancholy and vulnerability obvious and immediate. Both of the above mentioned songs are among Kent's finest ("Klåparen" perhaps more personally, but the latter has become the canonical classic of this record and for a very good reason), and they were so long before I started parsing what they really stood for, because of the strength of the arrangements and performance alone. Same with "400 slag" right from the first listen and still on the so-and-so hundredth listen, same with the sweep of "Den döda vinkeln" as it accelerates, same with the exhausted weightiness and deft guitars of "Du var min armé". These are songs where in practice it doesn't matter what the actual meaning is, because the colours the band use are so vivid that the listener has the power to illustrate their own interpretations into the songs with them.

I've tried to come up with a more artful way to say this but the crux of it all is that Du & jag döden is where Kent reach the peak where they'd go on to stay for a while: it's the apex of their rock sound, and among their best albums overall. Every promise made across the last five albums, every classic song, every emotional moment of brilliance - they all pay off here, perfected and delivered with a tight grip to how everything should be presented and how it all should connect. The dramatic peaks of its emotionally intense journey are presented like movie scenes that lead artfully from one revelation to the next, building up the stakes. The songs are great of course, but the flow of the record really is immaculate too, where throughout there's a constant feeling of momentum being built, which is then resolved in the more obvious tracklisting climax points: the restrained quiet of "Järnspöken" leads beautifully into the anguish of "Klåparen" as the mid-album palate cleanser, and the quiet-loud extremes of "Rosor & palmblad" build up the theatrics carefully in preparation for the epic resolution of "Mannen i den vita hatten". And while the band may have turned their backs towards Vapen & ammunition to some extent, they have adapted the more immediate strengths they leaned onto that record into their new guise: the punctual powerhouse energy of "Palace & Main", the fantastic backing vocal action on "Romeo återvänder ensam" and the precise piano hooks and epic stadium lift-offs of "Den dödä vinkeln" aren't too far removed from the previous album, but they're now clad in black and played with the passion of where every note played could be the last. It's a gorgeous, powerful listen and feels instantly personal.

Given Kent's tact change from the next record on, Du & jag döden has in hindsight become the last hoorah for the musical ideas that Kent had built their career so far on, and it honestly feels like an intentional gambit move. The overstuffed Hagnesta Hill and the radio-friendly Vapen & ammunition had landed them wider adoration but perhaps weren't something the band thought deserved that spotlight, and so they went on to create something that did. The detail in the arrangements in tandem with a muscular performance, each song a part of something greater, piecing together a journey through big emotions and the music to match them - Du & jag döden is a model example of a classic record to the point that it sounds like the band were completely aware what they were doing with it, and it sounds bold, inspiring and personal. While I think Kent equaled the quality of Du & jag döden later on down the line with other releases, there's no doubt that this is where Kent perfected what they as a band stood for. 

Rating: 9/10