MAGNET'S Evan Johansen has thus far specialised in stepping confidently through pop's murky minefield and adroitly avoiding the traps. His first three EPS were hanging-on-every-word things of beauty and would have made an album every bit as seismic as The Beta Band's "Three EPS" should they have been culled together as a sigle item. Indeed, lesser artists would surely have gone down that road, but not Johansen, who proceeded to floor us once again with the towering melancholy of his superb debut album "On Your Side".
Wonderfully, his eagerly-awaited follow-up once again singularly refuses to be a let-down. "The Tourniquet" finds our hero relocating back to Norway after his spell in Lockerbie, Scotland and teaming up with Jellyfish's Jason Falkner (whose other credits include Beck and Air) for some collaborative balance, yet the end results sound every bit as singular and special as anything Even has previously produced.
If anything, though, "The Tourniquet" is arguably warmer and more optimistic than the deliciously mysterious "On Your Side", and nowhere more so than during opener "Hold On", which finds Even crooning "we'll get through this if you hang on...you're not alone", before some gorgeously poised Beach Boys/ Super Furries harmonies kick in to take us to the fade. Magic.
Elsewhere, pop loveliness blossoms beautifully on the vine courtesy of songs like "The Pacemaker", "Believe" and "Fall At Your Feet". The first finds Magnet's characteristic rippling loops and furtive electronica giving way to unimpeachable pop and a honey of a chorus, while "Fall At Your Feet" isn't a cover of Neil Finn's fabulous song of the same name, but an equally fine, confident affair which could easily be a heavenly pop hit if released in its' own right as a single. "Believe", meanwhile, perhaps betrays more of Falkner's input with its' "Strawberry Fields" mellotron and Beatloid melodic touches. It's more direct and radio-friendly than the Magnet of yore, but surprisingly none the worse for that.
|
"Fall At Your Feet" isn't the only departure, either. Indeed, "All You Ask" corrals a space-y, reggae/ dub backdrop from some distant, friendly star and comes on like a 21st century Specials (complete with Rico-style trombone) if you can handle that risky leap of faith. Typically, Magnet makes it sound ridiculously natural and even gets away with a Bono-style croon on the spooked crawl of "Blow By Blow" before reeling you in with another magnificent chorus.
Inevitably, Even's natural melancholia seeps through the cracks along the way. The curiously-titled "Duracellia" marries his love of Country (banjo and glacial drifting pedal steel) with Johansen's do or die lyrics ("It doesn't matter if you leave or stay, I'm gonna love you either way") and, of course comes up reeking of roses. The emotionally knackered "Miss Her So" cuts the emotional crap in a big way, too. Against the barest of acoustic backdrops, Even's drowsy voice slurs through lines like "I wore out my welcome, I really don't care, I've worn out my patience and I'm a little worse for wear" before ending with the impossible-to-misinterpet "and I can't seem to let her go". It's beaten, bruised and utterly compelling, and then some.
Which could indeed be an overview of the album as a whole, save for the injection of that uncharacteristic optimism I've referred to along the way. Even Johansen continues to enchant and demand a special place in our heart and once he wraps you taut and tight in "The Tourniqet", then breaking free will be the last thing you'll want to consider.
|
