1 Mixed State (4:01)
2 Crying Hearts (Prince Valium Mix) (4:02)
3 Butter Cookies (4:21)
4 Afsal (4:27)
5 Tómleikar (4:01)
6 Redecoration In Four Dimensions (2:24)
7 Burning My B.A. (4:41)
8 Goofy Takes A Bath (4:43)
9 Pupu's Shoes (4:02)
10 Romantic Shopping (4:12)
11 Broken Shower (4:02)
12 Guð Blessi Þig (4:16)
Disque repêché dans les eaux parfois grises de l'année 2006, "Andlaus" propose une musique hybride, oscillant entre l'electronica dentelée et des lambeaux de bure noisy. Ces compositions non identifiées font en tout cas honneur au credo du label qui les héberge : échos stratosphériques et guitares cristallines comme dans les bons vieux Cocteau Twins (circa "Treasure"), boucles hypnotiques, la résonance est partout. Son maître d'œuvre, Thorstein Ólafsson (par ailleurs membre de sk/um), sait instiller des ambiances indécises, débusquer des humeurs entre chien et loup, faire pleurer les mandolines, parsemer ses compositions de petits effets délicats, ou encore ouvrir sa chambre à une mélodie pop ("Crying Hearts", seul morceau chanté - et très gracieusement - de l'album). Alternant, comme le recto verso de sa pochette, embellie soudaine du ciel ("Redecoration in Four Dimensions") et sol plombé ("Burning My B.A.", ou "Goofy Takes a Bath" et sa basse suicidaire), il livre un album maîtrisé, qui déjoue à la fois de l'emphase et du misérabilisme, et creuse un sillon intrigant entre post-rock et ambient.
Popnews
Engaging ambient music, if this is not a misnomer, can sometimes teeter on the edge of too ‘nice’ (read insipid). An album that in one mood appears calming and meditative may reveal itself as hackneyed and trite under different listening conditions.
Icelandic bedroom producer Þorsteinn Ólafsson’s debut effort under the Prince Valium moniker should NOT be listened to in the car, on the freeway. This is what could be referred to as not giving an album a ‘fair go’ (supposedly a defining characteristic of the Australian national psyche). This is an album made for headphone listening, or on a quiet Sunday morning when the world is at peace. Under such conditions, Andlaus grew on me—I had been initially inclined to dismiss it as pseudo-new-age massage music.
Stylistic comparisons could be made with label-mate Stafrœnn Häkon’s releases—occupying a sugary space where the melodies and atmosphere almost need a good kicking to give them a bit of attitude, but are nevertheless compelling. The Kranky label’s releases by Labradford and Roy Montgomery inhabit a similar space to Andlaus.
The opening three tracks are wonderful, especially the single vocal track of the album ‘Crying Hearts’. The remainder of the album drifts by in ambient shoegazing mode. Small nuances and effects come to the surface only to be wrapped up in the aural equivalent of fairy floss. Which, depending upon your mood, could be a good thing.
Cyclic Defrost
