A new 'emotional rave’ album, a powerful fantasy comic series & a gripping Scandinavian western
Endless Distractions #10
A new ‘emotional rave’ album
Music from Iceland seems to consistently capture the island’s texture, colour, temperature and general vibe more than any other country I can think of. Think of Sólstafir and Sigur Rós’ glacier–scaled post-rock, Múm’s fairy-like intricate beauty or Björk’s ethereal otherworldliness. Add Ólafur Arnalds’ wonderful orchestral compositions to this chilly list. Arnalds’ techno duo Kiasmos (which also features Janus Rasmussen, who’s actually from the Faroe Islands) have just released their second full-length II on the stellar Erased Tapes label. It’s a gorgeous work of art that the duo describe as “emotional rave”. It’s a fair description. These 11 tracks are heart-stoppingly beautiful, as elegant and cosmic as any of Arnalds’ orchestral work but with the driving pulse of meticulously–composed electronic club music. I personally adore similarly accomplished and emotive electronica musicians like Jon Hopkins and Rival Consoles, so this could barely be more up my street. It’s the kind of music that makes you feel like you're watching soaring drone footage of Iceland’s dramatic landscapes, before shooting you up into the cosmos to soar through the universe.
Other Listening:
The new album by a screamo band called Blind Girls. It’s caustic and dark and, bizarrely, by a band hailing from the sun-kissed Gold Coast, Australia. Ignore this cognitive dissonance and let the five piece’s punishing latest serrate your brain.
A powerful fantasy comic series
Of all the ‘speculative’ genres, fantasy is the one whose rhythms I’m the least steeped in. One day I’ll get into a massive, 12 book-long saga, but right now, the closest I’ve come to being invested in a fantasy realm for some time is via The Sacrificers. I read its first two issues during a brief period where I unsuccessfully attempted to buy new comics every week and was knocked down by it, so recently grabbed the trade paperback collected edition of the first six issues. It’s set in a world called Tomorrow, a supposed utopia ruled by gods that demand child sacrifices every year. It’s beautifully written by Rick Remender, with some literary dialogue and a large cast of well-sketched characters. It’s also kind of devastating: the main narrative opens with some heart-wrenching scenes involving the lead character of one of the two eventually-intertwining storylines being treated terribly by his father. The other narrative features a gradually-emerging socio-political undercurrent, making a very relevant point about the powerful elderly refusing to give way to the younger generation. It ends a bit abruptly, but you get the sense this series could become a long-running epic.
Other Reading:
This Guardian op-ed about France’s possible new left coaltion government co-authored by Thomas Piketty. Piketty is as revered and moral as any modern economist so when he praises the left’s policies as realistic and workable, I’m listening.
A gripping Scandinavian western
We all watch films at home and end up talking, making food or on our phones through some or all of the runtime. We’ve all done it. That’s why the cinema is still an unrivalled experience. Watching The Promised Land in my living room was like being in a pitch-black private cinema screening with my eyes held open, Clockwork Orange-style. I haven’t been as engrossed or invested in a film’s narrative since Dune: Part Two. The story of a retired army captain (played with typical dour-but-still-dashing gravitas by Mads Mikkelsen) hellbent on building a farm on a harsh area of then-uninhabited (the narrative begins in 1755) Danish moorland. Along the way he comes into conflict with a brilliantly-evil local landowner, meets two very-different women and takes in an orphaned Romani child. This savage, western-textured epic serves as a companion piece to Mikkelsen and director Nikolaj Arcel’s even more-riveting 2012 historical drama A Royal Affair. Both teem with interesting historical details, class-based conflict, illicit romance and moments of shocking brutality. It operates according to a familiar melodramatic narrative framework (you can sense when the bad things are about to happen) but the exact plot machinations still hit extremely hard. I’ve seen one or two criticisms based on this, but, for me, I loved seeing a recognisable framework executed with confident, stately and playful aplomb. Really hoping that this actor and director work together again soon.
Other Watching:
Quentin Dupieux’s latest absurdist comedy Daaaaaalí!. I want to like his films a bit more than I do, but their easy-going weirdness leaves me feeling a bit short-changed. Felt kind of the same about this one, but it’s still a funny and unique biopic by a filmmaker whose work I remain compelled to keep checking out.