HANS APPELQVIST
Sinfantin Och Morkret
H35
Häpna 2007
12 Tracks. 25mins00secs

Sweden’s Hans Appelqvist shows concern for that deep and incommensurable element of animal nature that cannot be made to work. A vertiginous warmth spreads slowly across most tracks. On Tank Att Himlens Alla Stjarnor, breathy, diffident vocals drift alongside a patient frenzy of field recordings, riven by the sparkling interplay of acoustic guitar and piano. In its wistful chord changes and modest yet sophisticated arrangement, the piece conveys a desire to get at continuity without crossing any barriers. Were it otherwise, and the need for an overwhelming wrench of violence was not left wanting, the rush of joy would be all the more stronger. Things being what they are, most pieces settle for the prosaic; for lusciously crisp, spacey harmonics, roving melodic guitar lines and percolating analogue beats. More often than not, these elements prove fresh and quixotic. What’s more, on account of this manner of unfolding, an affective connection is made with childhood – not a lived-childhood, but one that stems from the skewing of a basic TV theme.

Its limits are certainly clear, then, but these works still stand out as clever, eclectic, intelligent pop songs. Freckenages Spa has a dense, hiccuping flow, while the hard, full tones of piano and lilting flute of Lestapiona interweave in a plangent invocation. Full The Moon even shifts into more of an aggressive and extravagant exuberance. The song begins with feathery acoustic guitar and Apelqvist’s soft voice erecting a weightlessly sparse atmosphere, which turns out to be a mere ploy, a lure meant to draw one in, as its beatific space is superseded by desperate cries and moans from animals and densely packed coils of keyboard notes. No small number of brief interludes find their way into this album, though, short compositions which flicker with sandpaper rhythms and brim with babbling animal sounds, but which signify little of anything.

Explore: Häpna
Buy: CD