Snöleoparden is
the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist Jonas Stampe, a Danish
musician with Asian heritage who has the honor of providing the
specialist electronica-label, Rump Recordings, with its first
non-electronic release. Snöleoparden follows in typical ‘Rump
Recordings’ fashion with its free-form structures and embracing
utilization of varying instrumentation. Instead of electronica,
the music veers towards the genre’s of minimalist psych-folk,
outsider Hippie rock and World Music. Don’t be fooled into
thinking this is an album which takes itself too seriously though
as Snöleoparden is steeped in an aesthetic of child-like
experimentation; recalling the joy, curiosity, boundless potential
and freedom of ones first encounter with musical instruments.
As the album starts, it is these child-like
influences which rise to the fore. Utilising a fully fledged DIY
approach, Stampe proceeds to experiment (in a rather recreational
manner) with Xylophones, delves deep into uneasy listening territory
with a children’s sing-along Danish-pop song and opts for
another round of Xylophone practice, although this time with a
degree more complexity. From listening to the album as a whole
package, it seems that these initial tracks act as more of a warm-up
before the seriousness and true-experimentation sets in. Welcome
‘Water Puppet Theatre’, a dark and gloomy concoction
of downtuned guitar-strums, hand percussion and subtle vocal howls
which creates an aura of shamanic, ritualistic psyche-folk being
played in the middle of a remote forest behind the hazy glow of
the midnight campfire. Building on the simplistic sounds of the
opener, ‘Snabel E’ consists of a barrage of clattering
instrumentation which appears random but which has an underlying
kraut-esque structure behind it resulting in a sound akin to a
toned down Lightning Bolt circa ‘Ride The Skies’.
On ‘Lillecykel’, Stampe creates an intricate clustering
of sounds from hand-instruments, which when played loud, sounds
like an attack of insects crawling uncontrollably into your ears
and right through to your brain, leading to disorientation and
slight psychosis.
The
gem of the album, the appropriately named ‘Trance’,
is hidden towards the end; track 9 to be precise. Over the course
of its meandering 7 or so minutes, it dances around in a subtle
yet hypnotizing manner, akin to the movement of a flame against
a pitch black sky. Comprising of dark and moody sub-melodies,
muffled yet subtlety-pummeling percussion and spiraling electro-skree
all wrapped up in a snake-charmer aesthetic, the piece slightly
resembles the formidable results of Four Tet’s and Sunburned
Hand of The Man’s collaboration. Sounding akin to a score
for a David Lynch film, the resonating guitar-plucks and psyched-out
sound manipulations of ‘UFO’ flicker and twinkle with
a noir-ish mysticism. This track would have been a perfect closer
to the album but the mood and tone is suddenly (and slightly garishly)
modified with the arrival of ‘Greig’, a superfluous
exercise in fractured DIY circus style indie-pop.
Overall,
Snöleoparden is a daring album which covers a wide range
of musical terrain. It is this genre-hopping coupled with stirringly-intricate
arrangements which threatens to make the album such an interesting
and captivating listen, but simultaneously, the uneasy interplay
of childishness and serious experimentation leaves the album slightly
fractured and inconsistent. Listeners are urged to 'dig-deep'
and keep an open mind when listening as Snöleoparden will
lead to the discovery of some of Denmark's most unique and charming
soundscapes!!! (KS)
For
fans of: Sunburned Hand of The Man, Ashray Navigations, Arp, Kluster,
Four Tet
|