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There's something about Scandinavia. Maybe it's their inclusive
politics or their general separation from the rest of the world, but
they make a certain type of music that nobody else can manage to make.
The bleary Balearic beat has captured the hearts and minds of
virtually everyone vaguely interested in dance music over the past
five years or so.
Names like Air France, Annie and
Studio have all represented the aesthetic, and
naturally they all hail from the crown of the world. For whatever
reason, it seems to be this particular style of music is exclusive and
immovable from the north - no producer from the rest of the world has
really recreated, or even taken all that much influence from it.
Of course there's The Tough Alliance, who've probably become
the ambassadors of Balearic beat to the warmer parts of Earth,
especially with their last effort A New Chance. But this is a review
for an album by the mysterious 'ceo' who eventually revealed himself
to the world as Eric Berglund, one of the masterminds behind The Tough
Alliance's breezy splendour. It shows; White Magic follows the
footsteps of the project that birthed it rigorously, but doesn't lose
any of its charm along the way.
White Magic might very well be the most cheerful record released in
2010. There's hardly any sadness, or even any mixed emotions here, at
least musically speaking; the lyrics are too obscured behind the
summery mix to be discernable. The listener is instead drawn into the
gorgeous, tumbling italo-disco synth of instant anthems Illuminata and
Come With Me. Very rarely can a record be described as irresistible,
but that's just what White Magic is; it simply begs everyone to be
swept up in its unpretentious, giddy, polychromatic glory. When the
wintery folktronics of Den Blomstertid Nu Kommer starts marching
under a subtle boom-boom-tap bassline, Berglund mixes in the earnest
cooing of children, feasibly caught in a snowball fight, or a
particularly energetic lunch break, it's quite clear what feeling
he's trying to evoke.
And evoke it he does, for White Magic is a near perfect record in terms
of accomplishing what it sets out to do. The childlike imagery falls
in perfectly with the icy electro; it's a mere 30 minutes of
music, but it symbolizes perfectly the fleeting feelings of bright new
joy. It's a lot like the Fang Island record that came out near
the beginning of the year; short, sweet and wonderful, finding its
charm in the moments of life grown-ups wish they had appreciated more,
it reacquaints us with the world we continuously leave behind each
calendar year.
If there is anything negative to say about White Magic, it's that
the centrepiece Oh God, Oh Dear, while beautiful in its own right,
doesn't quite fit in the ebb and flow the rest of the record is
established on. It's a string-drenched, almost folklore-sounding
chorale, and brings in elements of doubt and indecision the rest of
the album avoids so perfectly. But that's a minor complaint at best -
White Magic is a gift, a solace, something to rest our heads on when
the world gets too scary, because our simplest memories will always be
there to soothe us. ceo understands that, and so should you.
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