Eivind Aarset and Jan Bang – Last Two Inches Of Sky

Punkt Editions

Erik Honoré and Jan Bang are being very scrupulous with their Punkt Editions releases, selecting just the right material allied to sublime artwork.

The fourth release finds another collaboration between Eivind Aarset and Jan Bang following slowly on the heels of 2020’s soft-focus Snow Catches On Her Eyelashes. Pleasingly, this is not just a retread of past glories; instead they have enlisted help to produce eight incredibly varied soundscapes taking in the usual gossamer guitar and electronics, but adding guest vocals, extra bass, percussion and even trumpet.

There is always that gauzy dreaminess to their sound that opener “Fire Dancer” allies with a subtle mechanical beat that anchors it, even if it is anchored in a hidden bay, far from sight. The sinuous guitar is extraordinary, barely recognisable as it ripples like the surface of a darkened lake. The sounds are awaiting discovery, lingering while through the undergrowth electronic movement signals life but just out of reach.

The movement is sublime, a gossamer gentle breeze barely rustling branches, gliding, drawing whispered samples in its wake. It is hard to tell who is producing which sounds as the overall effect finds everything folded in and gently warmed.

The atmosphere changes regularly though, particularly on the two tracks with vocals. Ex-Labelle and Talking Heads singer Nona Hendryx adds strong self-contained vocals to the loping, scraping quirk-pop of “Legion”. Her lyrics in association with Erik Honoré are intriguing. The distant trumpet and gurgling synths suit the time-straddling composition in a very different way to the collaboration with Sweet Billy Pilgrim‘s Tim Elsenberg; there is a yearning ache to his voice that embodies his take on the Icarus tale, one of ambition and desire. Piano and guitar lend varying degrees of melancholy and hope to the story, the poignant crack in his vocal pushing the emotion home.

Elsewhere, Talking Heads-y mutant funk pop with a particularly prominent bass from Audun Erlien, giving it a hip-shaking groove that rubs shoulders with the Space Invaders attack of “Minute Warning”, which took me right back to my arcade days. If you imagine the noises of the machine entwining somehow with the soundtrack to a forgotten ’80s cop show, you’ll be somewhere in the ball park.

I don’t know how long it has taken to compile this album, but it feels as though there were just too many ideas — so some tracks had to contain more than their fair share. The beat, if you can call it that, on closer “Two Predators” is ambulance-creamy, a stifled miasma of drifting sounds, a sense of submersion with noises dulled as they travel through the water, an inescapable murmur that leaves you bobbing calmly, warm and without care.

-Mr Olivetti-