The Radio Dept.
Pet grief
Labrador
In the endlessly fertile sonic croplands of Scandinavia, there's a certain strain of music you can harvest that might be termed "nostalgic pop." It's the kind of music that bypasses your intellect and goes straight for your emotions, albeit through a sort of gauzy filter. The Radio Dept. are ace practitioners of this sound, and their second album "Pet grief" is a sublime piece of work. It's uncanny how these Swedes know exactly what notes to hit, exactly which chord should follow THAT chord to maximize the "tingle effect" (the emotional response you have when a musical element really grabs you). This album has a remarkably cohesive mood, partly due to the organic shimmer provided by the guitars, simple keyboards and austere production, and partly from the soft, subdued vocals of Johan Duncanson. If you're into the reflective allure of what is often called "shoegaze," you can't do much better. The most immediately gripping example of The Radio Dept.'s style is "Every time," which features one of those spot-on chord progressions strummed breezily on acoustic guitars, a lullingly soft rhythm track and a subtle wall of "processed static" that struck me as the equivalent of a nostalgia portal, inviting the listener to come on through and let those stirred-up memories have their way with you for a spell. The voice really does seem to come from another time and place. "Always a relief" is also sheer perfection, everything about it as tasteful and cannily arranged as a song can be. If you're still grieving over some failed love affair, this kind of contemplative, far-off-staring album could induce tears, but if you really like to lose yourself in melancholic, dreamy Scandi-pop, you couldn't do much better than this.
- Kevin Renick