Fever Ray

Fever Ray (Mute)

By Aiden Landman
Published: April 21st, 2009 | 9:00am

Fever Ray, the self-titled solo debut of the Knife's Karin Dreijer Andersson, is a sprawling, ambient pop record that borrows from the past without stealing too much or staying too long. If you're a fan of the Swedish brother-sister duo, Andersson's solo release will be immediately recognizable, but the familiarity is remedial. While comparisons can be drawn, the differences between the two animals are ever-present after the first listen.

Throughout her eponymous debut, Andersson relies heavily on vocal modulation to create a wealth of inflections and harmonies, fluctuating from the downtrodden and somber sounds of “If I Had a Heart” to the higher ranged nouveau-disco stylings of “Seven.” Minimalistic at heart, the album’s electronic pulses litter the landscape, embellished slightly by conventional instrumentation. The results are a compelling mixed bag: it’s hard to fall in love with all of the tracks, but easy to be compelled by them.

Fever Ray is a record dealing with the effects of exhaustion. Andersson — who wrote the album during the Knife's latest hiatus and after the birth of her second child — sounds like a woman weary and drained. A chronic, slow-burning gloom hangs low over the proceedings. These aren't sad tunes; however, their optimism is cautious, their focus subconscious, and their value understandable to anyone who has spent time walking in the shoes of waking lassitude.

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