NTTR - No Time to Review

Day and Night is ambitious, generous and often very good, but it is also a perfect example of how more material can weaken a pop album. Carly Rae Jepsen has always been prolific, so a 24-track double album makes sense in theory. In practice, it confirms something I already suspected: she benefits from editing more than from abundance. The Day half is the more curious part of the project. “After All,” “On Wires” and “Blue Skies” show a softer and slightly more psychedelic side, with more acoustic colour and less of the immediate synth-pop precision I usually associate with her. Some of that is refreshing, but some of it becomes mood music rather than memorable songwriting. “Good Fine Alright” is a good example. I like it while it is playing, but I do not feel much need to hear it again. That happens several times across the first disc. The Night half works better because the rhythm gives the songs more definition. “Never Let a Good Thing Die” immediately feels more focused, and “Am...

The Meaning of Flowers is immediately recognisable as Agnes Obel, perhaps a little too much so. The sound is beautiful from the start: piano, carefully placed strings and electronics, her voice sitting very close to the listener, and almost nothing that feels accidental. Compared with Myopia , there is a little more warmth and a slightly broader instrumental palette, but the basic emotional world remains very controlled. “Laymelli” is probably the track I would return to first because it actually pushes against that control. The electronics and percussion create more tension than usual, while the manipulated vocals make the song feel less settled. “Gemini” is spacious and elegant, but “Never Been” already exposes the album’s main weakness for me: the arrangement is beautiful, the performance is beautiful, yet I struggle to remember much of the song once it ends. “Blood So Red” works better because it has more movement and a clearer progression, with the synths doing more than simply ...

Chaka Khan is still the best thing on this album. That sounds obvious, but it is also the problem. The title track arrives with a huge beat, synth bass and enough swagger to make the concept work. It is fun. But it also feels very consciously designed to announce a comeback. “Boogie’s in My Soul” is looser. Snoop Dogg fits surprisingly well, and the track has more natural swing than the opener. It is one of the moments where the album stops trying so hard to sound important. “Curious Subject” is probably even better. The groove is light, the hook is clean, and Chaka sounds comfortable rather than pushed toward a big modern-pop moment. That helps. “Cool U Down” with Sia is where I hear the machinery most clearly. Everything is in the right place. The lift. The chorus. The production swell. The vocal layering. It works. I just do not feel much surprise. “I Know You Can” is compact and pleasant, but fairly anonymous. “Bring the Party” wakes things up again. The guitar ...

This is very good at making everything feel important. Sometimes a little too good. “Reanimate” opens with exactly the kind of scale Holding Absence like: atmosphere first, tension underneath, then Lucas Woodland gradually turns the emotional pressure up. It works. His voice is still the band’s biggest weapon. “Reflection” is cleaner and more immediate. Big chorus, sharp production, enough rhythmic detail underneath to stop it becoming generic alternative rock. But I can already hear the structure. “Heaven” pushes the melodic side even further. Again, very effective. Again, very polished. The title track is where the concept becomes clearer. The lyrics move away from purely personal pain and toward something broader: isolation inside a permanently connected world. I like that change. It gives the record a reason to exist beyond another collection of emotional breakdown songs. “Take Me With You” is probably one of the more accessible moments, but also one of the places wher...

This is beautiful. It is also very easy to disappear inside it. “Conversation 1” tells me almost everything immediately. A few piano notes. Digital interference. Silence. Resonance. Nothing is forced. That is the appeal. “Conversation 2” and “Conversation 3” stay close to the same language, and at first I really enjoy how little they need. The electronics are especially good because they do not sound added afterward. They seem to emerge from the decay of the piano itself. But after twenty minutes, I start asking a different question. How much is actually changing? Not much. “Conversation 4” and “Conversation 5” are still elegant, still carefully balanced, but the emotional temperature stays almost identical. Fragile. Reflective. Suspended. Beautiful. Again. That consistency becomes a problem. “Conversation 6” introduces a little more tension, which I appreciate because the album badly needs some friction. “Conversation 7” and “Conversation 8” continue to explore tiny ...

I can understand why this must work much better in the room. On record, I am less convinced. “Rise of Midgard” immediately gives me the full Nytt Land vocabulary. Drums. Low drone. Throat singing. Flute. Repetition. It is atmospheric. But it is also very static. “Ritual” works better because the percussion has more physical force live. The vocals feel less controlled, more human, and for a while the repetition becomes genuinely hypnotic. “The Fires of Ragnarok” is one of the stronger pieces. It builds slowly, but there is actual tension. The vocals and percussion keep accumulating rather than simply circling around the same pattern. “U-Gra” is probably even more interesting. The Siberian influence feels more specific, and that immediately gives the track more identity. I hear less generic “Nordic ritual folk” and more of Nytt Land themselves. That is important. “Sotvorenie” is short enough to work as contrast. Then “Risu Raknar” brings me back to the main problem. I...