Rabid Records
Radical Romantics is a suitably alluring title for Karin Dreijer’s third album. Dreijer examines love scientifically, exploring every facet and pulling apart its very fabric. Romance is an idealised term, but Dreijer delves into love’s radical side with a philosophical wiseness, their voice drifting between weariness, caution, and excitement. Partially influenced by bell hooks’ novel All about love- a total deconstruction of love in modern society, Dreijer takes a similar approach, working on one thesis: “Finding out what it is to love”.
2017’s Plunge was a wonderfully urgent celebration of queer love, as startling as it was thrilling, as compelling as it was direct. Plunge had a sense of mania, bristling with restless energy, especially in tracks like ‘I Wanna Sip’ and ‘IDK About You’. Radical Romantics unfurls at a slower but equally as engrossing pace, more meditative than its predecessor; it’s largely peaceful and patient. Its slower pace allows its many layers to shine through, as Dreijer combines their talent and expertise with an ecletic list of collaborators.
Dreijer rekindles their partnership with brother Olof on the album’s first four tracks, creating an unofficial Knife reunion, and the time apart clearly hasn’t dulled either’s creative spirit. Bristol-based producer and acclaimed co-composer of Robert Eggers’ historical thriller The Northman provides expertise on one of the album’s highlights, ‘Carbon Dioxide’. Elsewhere, there are contributions from the Swedish production duo Aasthma (‘Tapping Fingers’), Lisbon producer Nídia (‘Looking For a Ghost’), and surprising but successful turns from Nice Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (‘Even It Out’).
Despite its sedate pace, there are moments of urgency as Dreijer explores the primal urges of love. ‘Tapping Fingers’ revels in a kind of mournful intimacy, a brief flame that cannot last: “We run our bodies as we go to sleep/Tapping fingers as a way to speak”. The track’s pounding percussion almost mirrors an excited heartbeat, ready for passion: “I’m in the parking lot/Ready to pick you up/Ready to burst”. By its conclusion, the track has morphed into a semi-symphonic sci-fi, with laser-like synths swirling around Dreijer’s lonely sentiments: “It’s better than sleeping, though”. The crackling intensity of ‘New Utensils’ ends with similarly erotic urgency: “Pull up the skirts/Grind the Beast”.
Dreijer drifts between personal vignettes and beguiling ambiguity. ‘Even It Out’ is as close to punk as Fever Ray will ever get, Dreijer snarling threats at someone who bullied her kid in high school, their voice slicing through conga-like rhythms and electric guitar lines. ‘Looking For A Ghost’ feels like an almost jaded quest for love, a reflection of age, but Dreijer’s searing wit lifts it: “Looking for a person/With a special kind of smile/Teeth like razors/Fingers like spice”. While on the warped bird-calling electronic shuffle of ‘Shiver’, Dreijer displays their vulnerable side, caught between desire and wanting something more, asking: “Can I trust- you”.
The slow, ominous opener, ‘What They Call Us’, sees Dreijer tackling broader misconceptions and sexist assumptions, speaking on behalf of the queer community, asking: “Did you hear what they call us?” and “This is not a band”. Dreijer gets almost spiritual on ‘Carbon Dioxide’, a pulsing electro-pop anthem with the album’s hookiest chorus, a perfect summarisation of the power and peril of love: “Holding my heart/While falling”. ‘Kandy’ is the album’s most ambiguous track, with its multi-faceted meanings: “All girls want Kandy” could be interpreted several different ways. Musically it’s a standout with its steel drum synths and pulsing bass line, Dreijer and her brother rolling back the years.
‘Bottom of the Ocean’ provides a mysterious conclusion, unfolding at a funeral pace and full of slicing synths, capturing the loneliness of the sea. Dreijer’s sonorous repetition of “Oh” is the track’s only vocal line, dripping down. It’s a suitably puzzling ending; after all Dreijer’s searching, love feels submerged and elusive, tantalisingly out of reach. Radical Romantics feels like an ever-ending journey, but Dreijer’s creativity ensures it’s never dull.