Reviews of Salt og Vind [12k1094]

His compositions manage to give an impression of frost while generating a real feeling of leniency for his listener, as if it were a question of wrapping him up to face the northern climate.

“Febertanker” perfectly encapsulates the record’s chilly aura, combining jittery percussive outbursts, echo-laden crunch, plinking melodies and rumbling bass tones in a thick, reverb-laden stew.

Stars and darkness, salt and wind, the two sides of the same mirror that Jostein Dahl Gjelsvik and his informed public contemplate on either side of the ice.

Nordic dub that doesn’t have to sound remotely like dub, has lost the last trace elements of reggae – and doesn’t have to miss them.

Magnetic.

“Salt og vind” relies on the laws and rules known, above all, to the unpredictable Norwegian nature. It is music for which rhythm is not necessary to flow, and its ephemeral appearance frees it even more, takes it off the ground.

Pjusk’s fourth album for 12k is stark and remains low in temperature. The rhythms are cold to the touch, emerging from the ice and splintering like a webbing of frost.

I think if this album will migrate its form in a poem it could be this one…

Salt og Vind is a collection of symphonies built with slow movements and sudden subsonic explosions.