Sunday, February 14, 2010

the colouring of pigeons

It's always really fascinating to watch a band mature into a more developed and refined faction of pop music bravado, while still experimenting with aesthetics. The Knife started out within the norm of European electro-pop, flaunting hints of bubblegum from their self-titled and then walking the plank between twitched vocals and lucid House music. Once Silent Shout was released, though, they initiated a brand of mystery and intrigue associated mostly with shamans and Dracula.

Also, to be honest, they just became really freakin' creepy. The music was dark and crude, but contained a high ratio of dance-floor abandon able to host many a haunted house party. They also sport really cool bird masks with matching black cloaks. By the way, I just found my halloween costume for 2010.


Karin Dreijer Andersson, one-half of the Knife, upped the anty on creepiness with her solo path as Fever Ray, dealing more with the visceral aspect of the music. Her videos are spectacles in itself and aren't used as marketing tools but more as color for the Knife universe. I mean if you think Lady Gaga pushes costume/makeup envelopes, watch the "Stranger Than Kindness" video and you'll see that Lady Gags is kiddie fodder in comparison. I mean no disrespect to Lady Gaga because I truly do believe she is some kind of ridiculous genius.


In collaboration with Berlin-based producer Mt. Sims and the equally-as-cryptic Planningtorock, The Knife made an opera called "Tomorrow in a Year". Cool. What's it about? Uh, it's based on Charles Darwin's On The Origin of Species. That, oddly, sounds like the most logical step for The Knife. And if we know anything about their style, it's that they're a bit odd.

One of the tracks released early was "The Colouring of Pigeons", an 11-minute epic about birds and stuff. Put a little less emphasis on birds and more on epic, and maybe the 11-minute part, because, man, this is epic. Think tribal percussion, film scores, and a good use of electronics to convey foggy and mythic atmosphere.

The song starts out with a really simple drum arrangement that builds on different drum tracks throughout the beginning. It's like no Knife song you've ever heard. A droney string pattern streams with hovering volumes, and then a woman sings in operatic voice. Yes, this song doesn't sound like the Knife, but it possesses the same eerie qualities and determinants of their previous songs.


The song is mostly percussion-based and, of course, follows a story that's omitted from listening to the song by itself. But judging the song from a singular perspective, it's arguably one of the Knife's most realized and complex songs. And the opera itself is a treat to listen to, mixing most of the Knife and Mt. Sims' career-defining sound in a cohesive, and sometimes in-cohesive, opus.


I'm not quite sure whether Charles Darwin had this kind of control with mood in his book, but it makes you wonder how the Knife views existence. Obviously, this is complete speculation on my part, but if we're trying to understand how the Knife operates in music and maybe in life, then I'd say we're hearing music made by individuals who view the man's beginnings as non-comprehensive and bleak.