Kite have slowly been making a noise since way back in the late 00:s, releasing a range of EP:s and slowly building momentum, and plaudits, as they did so. “VII” marks a real milestone for the duo of Nicklas Stenemo and Christian Berg though, as this is their first full-length album; or perhaps that should be first compilation album. The tracks are actually cultivated from their most recent seven singles, released over the last seven years.
Starting from the top, the first couple of tracks are significant as they were made during the pandemic years, and the influence is notable. “Remember Me?” opens up the album with a long synth drone, as if cleansing the ears ready for the latter part of the track, which actually builds into quite an anthem. “Changing”, on the other hand, has a very different, possibly due to the co-production of Blanck Mass (who features on co-producer duties four times across this set). The best of the Blanck Mass bunch is surely “Hand out the Drugs”, which captures perfectly that yearning for freedom that the pandemic restrictions took away from so many.
The album actually reads like chapters in a book, with certain tracks marking complete changes in mood. “Don’t Take the Light Away” has a distinct marching rhythm to it, and feels powerful and determined, with choppy synth stabs providing the backbone for soaring synth lines to glide over the top (also incorporated to lesser effect on “Bowie ‘95”). It is very different to what preceded it. Later on, “Glassy Eyes” does exactly the same thing again, this time taking away the beats completely and letting majestic vocals take the stage instead – beautiful and heartbreaking in equal measure.
A lot about this album is anthemic. I’ve already talked about the opener and “Glassy Eyes”, but listen to “Teenage Bliss”. It sounds just like the title suggests as the choral synth stabs literally have wings, light as air, and contrast that with “Demons & Shame”, which is anthemic and dark. Very, very dark. The piece has a soundtrack-y feel to it – you can imagine being a crow flying over burnt, inhospitable terrain, and you may find you fall back into your chair once the track ends. Later, “Panic Music” turns up the anthemic to near rave levels with synth stabs galore – listen to the last 30 seconds to see what I mean.
Not all is gold. “Bocelli” is a little similar for me, the same note range being covered on the vocals making it very repetitive and unfortunately a little dull. Of the remaining tracks, “Hopelessly Unholy” in its Orchestral Version brings a refined majesty to proceedings (though it drags on a bit). “Losing” soars and shimmies, with Anna non Hausswolff helping out on vocal duties, and the closer “Hum Hum” reflects the opener, with added beats.
“VII” a strong electronic album with good musicians and lovely, dense soundscapes, with the occasional track that rises above, leading to my favourite. “Tranås/Stenslanda” is possibly the most personal track here; in fact the name comes from the combination of the duo’s respective small home towns. This possibly is the reason why the track is so melancholy and personal, highlighted by the soaring vocals from Nicklas Stenemo – if you play any track from this set, play this one.
