Review Summary: Locked up with anxiety on the mind
When cut off from human interaction the mind can stumble upon some interesting ideas… and some rather disturbing ones as well, as is the case with Vanhelga's latest aptly titled EP, LPT. Lead member J. Ottosson, or simply 145188, said that the EP was a, "result of a long period of time being hospitalized under the Swedish law called 'LPT'". With nothing but a laptop to accompany him, Vanhelga's mastermind brings a lo-fi, eerie, pensive portrait of what such severe isolation can lead to.
The music exudes an anxious sense of emotion, melody and misery. From the slow, creepy spoken word sections to the implementation of buzzsaw guitars and hammered drums, Vanhelga leaves no speculation to the type of mood reflected here. "Dag 2" and it's strikingly similar follow up "Dag 3" develop this depressive atmosphere through a wall of distorted guitars augmented by brooding mid-sections that let the listener into the quite personal landscape of neurosis. While never climaxing into sheer chaos or madness, Vanhelga brilliantly straddle the proverbial line separating normalcy and the perceived precipice of such prolonged time in psychiatric isolation. "Lpt" breaks the mold a bit as it is easily the highlight of the album, a more jumbled and expansive guitar sound is juxtaposed by an underlying acoustic melody that appears from time to time eliciting sentiments that there just might be hope beyond those walls, even if it is perhaps illusionary or wholly unattainable.
The vocals while not absent are practically a non-factor on the EP as they consist of mostly reverberated vowels or spoken word sections. Of which, most notably, on opening track, "Dag 1" are reminiscent of other experimental black metal bands forays into such realms as in "Emlazh" by Netra. These carefully placed, clearly articulated passages evoke this inherit creepiness in the music as opposed to say an overall haunting feeling. This creepiness is supplemented by the EP's artwork which shows, presumably 145188's, self mutilated limbs and photos of the asylum. The EP closer, "Descending into Darkness" only adds to the dread supplied as the heavy-hearted piano notes vibrate off into the oblivion leaving nothing firm or tactile to grab onto.
LPT unfortunately isn't a perfectly crafted EP as although it does quite well developing the overall feel of isolation it doesn't do much else--that is to say, there isn't much in terms of variation of song structure or composition. As noted before "Dag 2" and "Dag 3" sound conceivably as if they were the same song, blending into each other. Of course, maybe this could symbolize the repetition of life with no freedom but in terms of listenability, they sound too much alike. The excellent closer could have shaved off about a minute and a half's worth of its running time at the end because it literally consists of nothing. Many will fault this EP for meandering, or in other words, never reaching the culmination of all this anxiety--though, to play devil's advocate, refraining from unleashing a chaotic maelstrom of black metal plays to the tracks overall mystery. There is a delicacy here, a painful genuflection that culminates in an emotional, melodic journey into something hopefully none of us should ever have to experience.
