Turning to the tried and true theme of love (or rather, love lost), Kings of
Convenience use their Simon and Garfunkel stylings to create what could be
deemed a break-up album for the timidly lovelorn soul. It's for the kid who
still cares so much about the girl who stomped on his heart that he just
can't bring himself to think of any harsh words to throw back at her. He'll
just sing sweet songs in hopes of getting her back.
Shifting from light and airy to a sort of mild bossa-nova groove on a few
tracks, Kings of Convenience throw in just enough variation to keep things
interesting, without snapping the listener out of the dreamy daze they've
induced. Granted, the songs here are not necessarily uplifting,
but they manage to squeeze in enough pop-flavored hope here and there
as to not send you tumbling into complete and profound depression. The accompanying vocals are
appropriately gentle, and the instrumentation is suitably warm, which further
ties the whole package together.
Though they're spaced several songs apart, "Singing Softly To Me" and "The Girl From Back
Then" are actually two parts of the same song. The former is a
realization that the protaganist is indeed in love, and the latter reveals the
fact that his
realization came a bit too late. Isn't that just the way it always goes?
Other mentionables include "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From", with its
guitar hook that will replay in your head for days, "Failure", which slightly
resembles an early Ocean Blue effort, and the magnificently hummable
"Toxic Girl." There is just enough balance here to justify many repeated
listenings...even on the days when love is good.
Editor's Note: If you purchased the Kings of Convenience's self-titled CD, released last year
on Kindercore, you already own roughly half of the material on Quiet is the New Loud.