Posted on 12/14/2009

Kings of Convenience
Declaration of Dependence
[Astralwerks]
The public's musical evaluation of so-called "originality" seems to be in the dangerous midst of eclipsing the arguably more valuable notion of sustainability. Case in point: the whisper which saw the recent release of Norwegian duo Kings of Convenience's third album. Commenting on the new collection of timid folk-pop's title, Erlend Øye (also of The Whitest Boy Alive) suggests, "all the freedom we have enjoyed in the last few decades has left us with almost too many options." Thus, latching on to someone or something that provides stability is not necessarily a bad thing. In a day and age where we're clamoring to create new options for ourselves, whether "glo-fi" or "West Side Soweto", we tend to forget about the things that felt good in the first place, and if we just reminded ourselves a little bit, would still feel good again today.
Perhaps 2004's release of the two-piece's sophomore effort Riot on an Empty Street (which, by the way, finally gets its title track on the 2009 follow-up) continued to advance the Kings' reputation for soft guitar-led pop composers because it featured embellishments of the percussive, orchestral, and vocal (a then-relatively-unknown Leslie Feist) variety. After all, at that time Øye was wowing ears globally with his electronic music fetish, including an entrancing solo album and a refreshingly warm and pop-friendly reinvention of the DJ mix album. Fast-forward five years and instead of heading into some grand concept album territory or genre-fusing experiment, Øye has returned to the very elemental roots that made his and bandmate Erik Bøe's 2001 debut Quiet is the New Loud skyrocket to indie fame at the start of it all.
With nary a drumbeat or production flourish present on the album, the subtle cyclical effect Declaration has on the listener is clearly purposeful – so much so it's downright masterful in places. Opening number "24-25" contains the powerful lyric "what we build is bigger than the sum of two" and harks back to a time when something so sparse could create something so rich, without flashy aesthetics or big ideas. "Peacetime Resistance" adds a welcome layer of strings to keep the dual-guitar action engaging and the closer "Scars on Land" contains the single most hypnotic acoustic guitar lick heard on a pop album this year. So when it comes down to whether or not to let an album that doesn't fit into any indie trend or doesn't try to leap out in front of traffic to get your attention lull you into a state of reliable reflection, all one must decide is whether or not it’s nice to depend on an old friend in an era that bombards us with excess. The answer shouldn't just be obvious; it should resound like a declaration eight years in the making.
Written by Chris Polley, Radio K volunteer