Jo Berger Myhre & Ólafur Björn Ólafsson: Lanzarote
Hubro

Some album titles seem like provisional afterthoughts, others pivotal to an appreciation of the work presented. In the latter category is Lanzarote, Jo Berger Myhre and Ólafur Björn Ólafsson's collaborative sequel to their 2017 debut The Third Script. Lanzarote, for starters, is the name of a Canary island that Michel Houellebecq used as the title for a short novel in 2000 and five years later as the setting for his apocalyptic work La Possibilité d'une île, and for Myhre at least, the French author's writing juxtaposes passages of intense longing for emotional connection and others revealing a mercilessly misanthropic and grotesque view of humanity—heartfelt intimacy and harshness similarly captured in the duo's musical material (Myhre also, however, is quick to clarify that the album tracks were created before discussions about Houellebecq arose).

A perhaps deeper resonance in the title stems from the association Ólafsson had with the late Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson, a friend and mentor with whom he'd often worked. Lanzarote, it turns out, is where the two last met, Ólafsson having played a show with him there a few months before his untimely passing. If, therefore, the opening “Grain of Sand” exudes a particularly potent emotional quality, it's explained in part by the fact that it was written days after Jóhannsson's death and is dedicated to his memory.

It, along with the other six tracks on the thirty-two-minute release (including an album-ending reprise of “Grain of Sand”), were recorded between Reykjavik and Oslo in several sessions over a year's time. The two improvised material during the sessions and then re-shaped it during the editing process, often adding overdubs. Everything was played by them—Myhre credited with double bass, electronics, Simmons SDS8, and Prophet 6 and Ólafsson upright piano, Farfisa organ, Moog, drums, and percussion—except for brass contributions to three tracks by Eiríkur Orri Ólafsson (trumpet) and Ingi Garðar Erlendsson (trombone, tuba).

As an opener, “Grain of Sand” proves totally arresting, the duo's requiem for Jóhannsson a beautifully calibrated rendering of sorrow into sound. The soft touch of piano intermingles with bowed glissandos in a way that suggests undulating expressions of grief, and in being so openhearted, the material verges at times on devastating. The subsequent pieces explore myriad other pathways, however, the two wisely ensuring the album doesn't settle into a single style and mood. Low-key meditations and curdling dirges thus sit side-by-side with improv-driven instrumentals on the release, which Hubro's issued in digital, CD, and vinyl formats.

With the horns participating and aggressive drumming animating the piece, “Atomised / All We've Got” plays like a freeform, no-holds-barred excursion into experimental post-rock. Simultaneously mournful and a tad cryptic, “Both Worlds” could be taken, in its title, for an allusion to the aforementioned juxtapositions found in Houellebecq's writings. “Current” livens things up when steel drum accents and an animated percussive backing join Myhre's bowed bass, the instrument combination, sparse as the arrangement is, the most ear-catching one on the album.

January 2020