Tape
Preludes (10")
The return of Swedish trio Tape has been reassuringly slow motion. They've always moved at their own pace, these three peripatetic musicians - brothers Andreas and Johan Berthling, and companion Tomas Hallonsten - though its been over a decade since their last full-length, 2014's 'Casino.' Not a disappearing act, rather a break for consideration, time to explore other avenues of creativity, perhaps. But their reappearance, with the 'Refrains' 10", was one of 2023's most encouraging moments; doubly so, as it was proof they'd not lost their way, at all, in the intervening nine years. The Tape modus operandi is one of deceptive simplicity and artful innocence. On 'Preludes,' a typically right, one-word Tape title, this means five wordless songs that move between fully fleshed out, lovingly tended folk threnodies - the beautiful opener, 'Lights Out,' that spins webs via simple, hypnotically repeating guitar - and textural conceits that hover, appealingly, in a kind of no-place. 'Naukluft Plateau' is lovingly dappled, with ruminative piano adrift on a cascading tonal waterfall. Then, feather-fall strums of guitar meet huffing harmonium and electronic scrum on the brief 'Golden Gain.' Is there a more perfect song title for Tape than 'Tangential Thoughts?' It sums up the way their music, nimble and dainty but also carefully tended, lends itself to the reverie, the meander, the anfractuous. The madeleine-like power of this songs two-chord figure allows the music to take flight: rustling organ, oscillating cymbal, droplets of percussion, a spinney of sound. And 'Preludes' slips away 'On The Accordeon Bus:' there's something lovely about the way that title collapses transit, articulation and bellows, reflected in the see-sawing sway and glitch-like rivulets of sound that course through the song. So, 'Preludes,' then - alive to the moment, both gentle and sturdy. A copse of tone, and a most gorgeous wool-gathering. Edition of 250 copies with insert.