Pitchfork

There was backstory alright-- one needed only decipher Swedish to begin to look for it. But even a cursory familiarity with Dungen, the ungainly psilocybic debut, and the recently reissued Stadsvandringar, the more composed sophomore effort, reveals an unexpected twist: cheese is where wonder boy's heart really lies.

If Ta Det Lugnt emerged untainted from a 30-plus-year cryogenic sleep, Stadsvandringar is the schizophrenic nightmare. Beatles and Tulls live a diatonic turn apart, crossbreeding most openly on "Solen Stiger Upp", whose prominent flutes disorient by dint of overhybridization, unsure whether to trill or thrill. "Fest" further sows confusion, tiptoeing a creaky "Blackbird" back porch before blowing the shit asunder. The faux-heavy outro loses a photo-finish to "Sol & Regn", which harmonizes woodsy fiddle and sunburnt guitar, in the race to sully Gustav Ejstes' integrity.

So timeless psych-rock opus wasn't always the M.O.-- fear not, Scandinavians aren't born with Creation's catalog grafted to memory. Before realizing TDL, Ejstes made some hardcore realizations: "I questioned everything about music," he told Pitchfork's Brandon Stosuy. "What's music? What's the meaning of it? I play G Minor and it's 'yeah yeah, I love you.' I was sick of it."

Oh, duh, intense self-reflection-- that's how you make compelling art. While Stadsvandringar marks a quantum leap forward from the noodly debut, the album pulls up at that gaping, pre-revelation void. Nothing on the disc touches TDL's bittersweet brilliance; riff-to-riff combat is a laugher. Where the latter mussed its pulchritude with conflict and cynicism, these diaper dandies are pleasure without the price. "Stockholm" is typical DOON-yun molasses sway, all top-heavy acoustic strum and underlying synth peals, but damned be that textbook half-cadence resolution. Spare us the theory lesson, tack.

Non-speakers are at a disadvantage here: Without lyrics, we're ill-equipped to give Stadsvandringar-- or any of Ejstes' output-- a full rendering. In lieu of this important knowledge, then, join me in a listener participation exercise: Imagine Ejstes spitting your soupiest live journal stanza over "Natten Blir Dag"'s vanilla verses. Now over "Festival". On which do the vox put their best sore thumb foreward? And on which do you not give a flying fuck what's being said?

All this isn't to say Stadsvandringar is a poorly made album; in fact, by 2001 Ejstes had helmed a lot of the techniques-- frenetic jazz-rock drumming, fluid electro-acoustic interplay, whooshing abysses of reverb-- key to TDL's sound. But one can see how it could've made a man ill, making such sap as "Natten Blir Dag" when there's clearly the desire to branch out. Dungen made sense-- what tyro doesn't want to write 18-minute epics? But the shaky transition to pop form is fascinating because it renders Ta Det Lugnt even more improbable-- it was a breakthrough of heroic proportions, the stuff >weepy biopics are made of.