Swedish duo A Swarm Of The Sun have been together for a good ten years or so, but this latest album is their first since 2015. Erik Nilsson, guitarist and pianist of the duo, is also chief of Version Studio Records, the group’s label; and vocalist Jakob Berglund arranged the beautifully monochromatic artwork, all snowy forestscapes and misty moods.
Spread across three tracks, the forty minutes of this album are a sweeping travelogue through a stark but glorious landscape, one that is at moments welcoming and at others overwhelming. The core duo are augmented by drums, bass, viola and pipe organ, and that heady mix creates a rich and resonant sound that sweeps the listener into the frozen drama.
A solitary hypnotic drum and the slow swirl of ascending strings introduces opener “Blackout”, a cymbal wash adding to the sense of sleepwalking through a frozen landscape, ice crunching underfoot as the violin provokes clarity and draws the listener onwards. The drum feels as though it is emanating from a distant clearing, and you are making your way slowly but surely in that direction. The solitary drum drops away after some time, and a reverb guitar picks notes out of the glistening air. It almost falters, then a swarm of guitars awakens over a shuffling drumbeat that infuses an intense burst of energy. As the song receives its welcoming second wind, the drummer gradually gathers everything together, and with subtle fills and driving beats sees the unfolding drama to its conclusion. This breathtaking slow-motion unfolding is the group’s modus operandi, and although the idea of each of the three tracks undertaking a similar build-up may seem unimaginative, you would never tire of differing views of the same glorious landscape. Maybe one day the weather is overcast and drab, while days later the sky may be electric blue and buds are starting to show on the bare trees. Listening to this album is rather like that. You kind of know what to expect, but are looking forward to it anyway.The pipe organ opens “The Woods” and a gentle drone accompanies Jakob’s whispered, heartfelt vocal. A blasted landscape of echoing guitar notes changes the mood somewhat and it feels as though he is delivering a lullaby for refugees. It is slow and subtle, but can’t stay that way for long. The noise gradually leaks in, slow and heavy but uplifting. The drums have real power and glide slowly into a hypnotic marching motif as guitars seethe and gnash in the background. The rhythm is relentless and urges the track from one dramatic peak to the next, as if there were a race against a gathering dust-storm, the final searing guitar flourishes and drum mayhem keeping pace until a shelter is found and the dust eventually settles.
The ascending guitar notes and flat, echo-less drums frame Jakob’s tale of regicide for the greater good on “An Heir To The Throne”. It sways and eddies around the words, until the final one is uttered and the song bursts into life with startling impact. The band piles volume and sheer weight of sound into the attack until the drums are barely heard below the melée. That guitar sound comes as if it is being attacked with a screwdriver, blurring the vision, and the magnitude of the scope is formidable. It is one of those moments where you feel they can add no more, but there is always just a little more volume and the whole thing swings like an orchestral piece, flashing around your head like so many storm clouds. When it does finally relent and the volume decreases gradually, there is a kind of sense of relief; and then, just like that, the whole thing is over and silence reigns again.This kind of bombastic, sweeping sound-scape needs to be done well to set it apart from the throng. A Swarm Of The Sun have managed that with subtle textures and an excellent production. I am going to stick it back on right now.
-Mr Olivetti-
