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Denmark’s own Iceage have found themselves on a pretty remarkable trajectory. The unruly punk rock of their initial work resembles very little of their music to come. A creative peak was attained in 2014 with the grand artistic statement of ‘Plowing The Fields of Love’, with a newfound orchestral bent to their still very seedy style. As Iceage progresses, their music leans more heavily towards the romantic. The guitars have brightened dramatically, and their songwriting has embodied an almost-entirely pop disposition. With melodies like the ones heard on “Ember” and “The Weak”, any trace of the broody Iceage of yesteryear has nearly vanished. Still, frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt’s vocals have very much stayed sick with yearning, and it arguably serves their current brand of melodicism better.
Genuine dance-punk grooves support some more familiar angularity on “Match Head Girl”, yet even in moments like this, the jagged edges are more rounded upon closer inspection. The band might try to darken things up a tad, but some unknown force is always correcting things. The impressionistic album artwork (courtesy of Elizabeth Peyton) enforces this all-encompassing, passionate force of love. The rosy double-imagery making it so that no matter where you look, you are surrounded by such overwhelming romance. The galloping “Salve for Every Sore” could initially read like a flighty, panicked sprint away from a romance, yet as the track progresses, a real giddiness penetrates each corner. I don’t paint the music in this way to insinuate that such inescapable love is a bad thing, just to clarify. If anything, Iceage would probably argue the opposite to be true; that there is an irresistible nature to such strong positive emotions.
“mother-of-pearl” gives in completely, as marching snares and blissful guitars lock in to communicate a unified contentment of heart and mind. The rest of the album largely delivers highlights of this nature, exploring each square-inch of the pleasant state induced by an enduring love for someone else. The need to have someone there, to experience things with them, to go through life at the same time. For your bond to extend beyond your mortal self, and to potentially continue on in another plane entirely. The most morbid of the latter moments in the tracklist comes by way of “Tender Blades”, though any semblance of gloom arises more out of existential questions about what one would be willing to do for someone else. Otherwise, love is either given biblical weight, like on “Holy Water”, or cosmic heft on “Star”. Either way you slice it, it is something beautifully unknowable. It both lives inside everyone, yet simultaneously transcends all of us.
Dan Will Review 