Review Summary: Empty like my childhood, high above the streets
Even if I have a fancy new “staff” designation next to my name, I’m really not at all the informed choice to review Jenny Hval’s latest record. While the artist’s name has been on my radar for years, I’ve never heard any of her work (even a single song) up until this very week. Partly, this is because Hval’s music often gets lumped into the “art pop” style, and my personal feeling is that, while some art pop is good, more often than not this type of thing ends up being rather bland, aiming for artsiness to distract from a fatal lack of good hooks. This might be (read, probably is) ignorant, but it’s just, like, my opinion,
man. Beyond that, can’t say that I have much of a taste for overtly experimental music, and Hval has albums called
Innocence Is Kinky and
Blood Bitch, so I have my reasons for steering clear.
However, here we are. A combination of factors led me to Hval’s sixth full-length. First of all, it’s a bit of a slow week for new releases. Additionally,
Classic Objects has a bright and gorgeously inviting cover, and I’m a simple man. Finally, after doing a little research, I found that the consensus is that this album sees Hval moving in a bit more accessible and straightforward direction. In short, everything came together for me to finally give this generally acclaimed artist a chance.
This reviewer’s largely uninformed lens to view
Classic Objects is as a near companion piece to Cassandra Jenkins’ wonderful 2021 record
An Overview On Phenomenal Nature . Part of this association is certainly superficial: both albums have stylistically similar artworks, and Hval is Norwegian, while Jenkins wrote a song called “Ambiguous Norway”. However, there’s some genuine similarities as well. Both of the albums are exceptionally lush, feature gorgeous vocals, and maintain a New Age spiritualistic vibe. All told, each manages to craft a rather similar atmosphere, at the midpoint between peaceful and melancholy, even if they do so in notably different ways. In essence,
Classic Objects is more sonically diverse, while
An Overview On Phenomenal Nature feels more thematically-focused, while also putting the lyrics forward more aggressively.
The eight songs which comprise
Classic Objects are compelling diverse, given that variety isn’t necessarily the name of the game in the singer-songwriter/ambient/art pop spheres. Hval’s beautiful vocals take center stage at most moments, yes, but the rather varied musical backdrops manage to take the listener in a lot of directions. Opener “Year Of Love” has reggae-reminiscent aspects, and it’s the first sign that, despite the artist’s Scandinavian origins, there’s a tropical warmth that fills this record at numerous points. “American Coffee” moves from soothing ambient towards more upbeat sophisti-pop territory, while “Year Of Sky” provides a shimmery folksiness throughout. On the more unsettling side, there’s the ominous pulses which fill the instrumental second half of “Jupiter”. All told,
Classic Objects isn’t exactly an album with a lot going on (given the styles involved, probably not a complete shock), but it manages to maintain listener interest throughout.
Lyrics don’t always take center stage on
Classic Objects, but they’re certainly worth some attention. While often edging on pretension, there’s a lot of poetic appeal to be found. Besides the wonderful couplet which comprises this review’s summary (from the blissful “Year Of Sky”), there’s the record’s inviting first lines “we were married on a rainy day, isn’t that how the song goes?” and “once you played in empty bars, performing for the beer taps and the pool tables”, taken from mid-album highlight “Cemetery Of Splendour”. Another memorable moment is the childlike repetition of “I wanna live in a democracy” in the beautiful little track “Freedom”. I get the sense that Hval is using the last of those lines as only part of a rather elaborate philosophical exploration which mostly goes over my head, but nonetheless it’s rather striking, particularly as a brutal dictator goes marauding through eastern Europe.
The record closes with the repetition of “a dream, a dream, a dream”, over and over. It’s appropriate, as at its best, that’s what this album feels like. The lyrics might not always make linear sense, but there’s a sort of appealingly weird logic to it all, and the musical soundscapes invite the listener towards some (often placid) alternate dimension. This may be a mood listen, more than anything, but as a soundtrack to a relaxed moment on a sunny day, you could do a whole lot worse. Maybe, just maybe, one of these days, I”ll check Jenny Hval’s back catalog, after all…
