Leading lights of the Norwegian progressive rock scene for more than 15 years, have always had a clear identity. Across their five studio albums to date, their subtly unique strain of post- melancholy has certainly proved itself to be a malleable thing. Their 2013 album saw them perfect their sound.
Every subsequent release has brought new dimensions and textures to the tearful party, while also retaining the essence of their trademark dreamy drift. In the darkly digital paranoia-fest of 2016’s and the back-to-basics sumptuousness of 2020’s , there’s a sense that Airbag could tinker at the edges of their sound forever and a day without ever sacrificing the unfussy, humble power that lies at its heart. That remains largely true here.
offers no radical departures or jarring detours, and with the disarming vocal presence of frontman Asle Tostrup dominating the foreground, these songs should slot neatly into the catalogue. Nonetheless, this is a very different record from its predecessors – if only in sonic terms. The background is a masterclass in minimalist elegance Blurring the lines between traditional prog, its modern equivalent and, more surprisingly, mind-expanding space rock, opening epic highlights the new dynamic sensibilities that inform this record.
Built on a languid groove, it has much in common with the somnambulant stoner ritualism of bands like King Buffalo and OM, quasi-dub bass line included; but with the expected, bittersweet melodic thrust of the mode.
