Konkylie by When Saints Go Machine
LABEL: !K7

The Danish synth-pop group return for their excellent sophomore effort, a sonic landscape that sounds something like The Knife injected with a blanket of lushness, overlain by frontman Nikolaj Manuel Vonsild’s vocals, eerily similar to one of my favorite musicians, Antony Hegarty. More impressive still, the Vonsild’s vocals are also manipulated and embedded into the composition, as heard in “Church and Law” or “On the Move.” The sound here moves from elegantly funky to delectably pensive, all under warm swaths of synth. Indeed, melancholy is ubiquitous here, but it’s almost a sound of rueful glee, the groove not stanched by the sometimes-introspective focus but, in fact, bolstered by it.

It’s been a while since the Fail Forever EP, but this record is well worth the two-year wait. From the first song and title track — an etherial hymn which wants to launch into the clouds but remains understated even as it approaches — you know you’re in for top-notch songwriting. These guys know how to build tension. “Church and Law” begins with a bright pairing of voice and synth intercepted by a disconcerting minor-key piano and threatening to collapse into discord before, yet again, another interruption by the lead synth. The synth textures here are pure, the chorus big-hearted and desolate. It’s laid-back but also infectious, in effect demanding that your head nod to it.



“Parix,” an album standout, shimmers and shudders, the vital pulse complemented perfectly by the vigorous vocal rhythms. And on this song, particularly, the listener is made aware of the care invested in the lyrics and vocal delivery, which are brimming with love. It’s truly seductive. For example, one poetic lyric from this song  inadvertently describes the band’s sound to a tee: “...where concrete meets the river/ young and wild, shake and shiver.” This music sounds like an evocative collision of the sea’s undulation with the heaving throb of urban society. “Chestnut,” with its pensive electro-bass churn, emerges from the underbelly of the city like a rugged flower growing in the cracks of the concrete, to evoke two cliches in one sentence.

“The Same Scissors” begins with a somber glimmer but evolves into a teetering, spacious nod to Fever Ray. It particularly reminds me of “Concrete Walls,” though considerably less agonized. “The Same Scissors” is a great example of the play of dynamics which makes the record so rewarding.

After brooding, the album becomes considerably more upbeat for the following two songs, reminiscent of their older work. “Jets” is almost raucous, featuring ethnic percussion — do I hear mbira? — and a plodding synth line. It’s, actually, not as well-constructed as the rest of the album, dragging somewhat in its homogeneity. The same holds somewhat true, though less so, for “Kelly,” which is vibrant and simple single fodder.

  Church And Law (FCAN Remix) by When Saints Go Machine

“On the Move” resumes the atmosphere introduced earlier on the record. It escalates in density, the oceanic wash and ascending organ chords coming to dominate. The final two tracks take a different approach, more playfully organic, the synths mimicking real instruments and the songwriting unconstrained. They lack percussion, though they maintain a compelling pulse. “Whoever Made You Stand So Still” is warm and blurry, like an out-of-focus photo of a conversation. Meanwhile, the final track is more vigorous, and the five minutes go by like nothing because of the passionate play of timbres employed. Check the harmonics at the end.

The band’s name makes sense. These final two tracks, with their synth-simulacra of acoustic instruments, emphasizes what’s true for the entire record: this is music which wrenches the spiritual out of the electronic, urges computers to cry. It’s an injunction to discard our silicon cocoon, turn it against itself — to bring up another cliche, fight fire with fire. And even better, it’s an injunction to dance as the cocoon peels, the music resounding quietly like steel butterflies in the rain. And trust me when I say this — my prose in this review has been as purple as Konkylie is compelling. I hope these guys get big. Highly recommended.


REVIEWED BY MANUEL ABREU
MANUEL’S FAVORITE TRACKS: “Konkylie” • “Parix” • “On the Move”

FREE MP3: “Kelly”
FREE MP3: “At Ends”