Fever Ray

The return of half of one of the greatest groups alive gives great reason for a full album review:

Fever Ray – Fever Ray (Rabid Records)

The cover of the début LP from The Knife’s Karin Dreijer is a monochrome woodcarving graphic of Karin in her signature aviator sunglasses holding a perspex container. In the background is a hinterland scene with two log cabins, her lenses reflecting leaves. The curving hand-drawn lines of the image is a cool – if not macabre – representation of what the record delivers.

A folksy fantasy, the album tends to exotic ideas spanning across half tempo beats and sedated rhythms. The production draws the melodies out into long brush strokes whose origins are less than defined. Equally obscured are the vocals which are semi comprehensible.

The various themes each come to their own fruition on varying tracks. Concrete Walls is a series of hypnotic loops with the vocals produced to near ethereal gasps. I’m Not Done features Karin’s voice being digitally altered to that of a valkyrie, seducing warriors and indie kids alike.

The overall production, as one would expect is further refined than previous outings by Dreijer. Chronologically her career has been an increasing chart of slick, self contained and distinct sounds. Her application of a plethora of techniques to contort and distort her voice in line with dance, electronic and IDM imagery. However, on Fever Ray, a record that tends more to stretched phrasing than repeated rhythms, the ambient textures result in the mangled vocals being displaced from their boxed off 4/4 habitats derivative of Kontakte.

Opening track and first single is a bold statement of intent. The first note is a ragging pulse remembering the intro to Miserlou. The vocals enter with heightened vigour and layered warmth. It’s the moments when human perseverance breaks through the circuit boards and bellows out the speakers that shine the brightest. Dry and Dusty is a prime example of Dreijer’s use of pitch shifting her voice down thirds and octaves, reducing it to that of a genderless choir, which juxtapose with the raw unadulterated vocals that occur as infrequent human contact. In these digital spectres of vocal colouring that span the album, Karin creates her own sonic world for the listener to escape to. Stand out tracks are I’m Not Done and Keep The Streets Empty For Me which both simmer with excitement, always threatening to boil over but instead hold a subtle tension throughout.

In brief, Fever Ray feels like a friend blowing cool air down your spine; there’s always something off-kilter in the sound but over the course of the album, it provides a certain charm.