SKYPHONE
Avellaneda
(Rune Grammofon)
By Erik Morse
The Danish trio of Thomas Holst, Keld Dam Schmidt, and Mads Bodker has deepened the exotic secrets first whispered in its 2004 debut, Fabula (Rune Grammofon), with a new quiet masterpiece, Avellaneda.
Possibly a titular reference to the small port city in Argentina or the aristocratic family for which the town is named, Skyphone’s Avellaneda seems to recall nothing less than the cryptic landscapes and genealogies of Jorge-Luis Borges. In name alone, tracks like “Schweizerhalle,” “Quetzal Cubicle,” and “Yetispor” present odd, polyglot taxonomies of old Europe and the New World. While the grab bag of gizmos in Avellaneda – glockenspiels, toy pianos, analog synths – and field sounds are all found in the band’s debut, the manner in which they are layered together vertically in the former rather than stitched laterally in the latter liberates the space of each track, allowing the sounds to tarry and erect their own internal rhythms.
This is a great leap forward in Holst and co.’s working method. As a Scandinavian relative to artists like Alog, Phonophani, and Kim Hiorthøy, Skyphone’s achievements in lush, ambient soundtracking are not without referents, but in demurring to the post-dance emulsions of glitchy beats or po-mo production, Avellaneda puts the group in a sonic universe somewhere between Debussy and Eno. In fact, the conjurations of moody bliss and non-Western rhythms make the album a sequel of sorts to Eno’s 1975 classic Another Green World (EG). Deserving of all of the hype, Skyphone confirms why Scandinavia is still at the forefront of avant-garde electro-acoustic music.