Fever Ray, Vuk | Metro | Rock, Pop, Etc | Chicago Reader

Fever Ray, Vuk Critic's Choice Early Warnings (Music) Recommended Soundboard

When: Sat., Oct. 3, 9 p.m. 2009

The Knife’s 2006 album Silent Shout is deeply unsettling—though its minor-key synths, pitch-shifted vocals, and dreamlike lyrics convey the same kind of free-floating dread as Blue Velvet or Charles Burns’s comic serial Black Hole, many of the songs are somehow also addictively catchy. Fever Ray is Karin Dreijer Andersson of the Knife solo—that is, without her brother, Olof Dreijer, the Knife’s other half—and her self-titled debut album, released earlier this year on Mute, works the same kind of dark magic that Silent Shout does. Thunderous faux-tribal drum programs push ominous electronic swells aloft, and Dreijer Andersson’s piercing, waifish vocals arrive like a cold wind that cuts clean through your coat. The standout track, “When I Grow Up,” begins as an IDM-inflected ambient drone, then coalesces into tight electro-funk—and its video neatly captures the album’s vibe. An elfin girl in filthy Keds and some sort of ragged shaman’s costume lip-synchs to the song while standing on the diving board of a backyard pool and dancing a ritual to summon an entity from the water. A stone-faced man watches from the house, and unnameable horrors lurk just out of frame—we never see the summoned creature, if it’s even a creature, just trails of bubbles, explosive sprays of water, and glimpses from the point of view of whatever it is that’s moving in the pool. A sick part of my brain wants it on repeat all the time. Finnish-American singer Vuk opens with a solo set. —Miles Raymer

Price: $25

Add a review

Rating

Select a star to rate.