To a good many tracks there is a sensuous feeling of determinedly slow frottage and a descending enveloping dovetailing into fetishism. Quite simply, Mads Baker is engulfed in all manner of things that go snap, crackle, and pop - analog synths, samplers, toy instruments and the like - Keld Schmidt handles the melodic side of things, while on bass Thomas Holst coaxes out the darker atmospheres that occasionally rise over these winding compositions like an oncoming weather front.
Skyphone often handle their obsession with extreme sensitivity. These aren't generic attempts to replicate the clunky tintinnabulation of various prototypical sound workshops. Pieces are generally a genuine artistic union of humming, fluctuating loops, thrusting rhythm stabs and vibrant harmonies that dance concentric circles around these buzzing sound fields. It's a polystylism that is writ large on compositions like "Quetzal Cubicle", in which a shimmying smear of Moog winds like a snake around a warm organ drone, pestered patiently by ravishing rhythms and a queasy blend of acoustic guitar plucks and pings.
When not operating in this manner, the trio often spiral into a cheeky compendia of languid jazz licks, various film musics, and Scandinavian folk. On occasion they get too bogged down in details aplenty. But, to be sure, this is far from an endearingly nutty car-crash of styles; it's a skillful, technically robust exploration of acoustic instruments and alienated shards of sound. It's also a good deal of fun.
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