Sloppy.
That’s the only term I could think of as I neared the half-hour mark of Danish punk band Iceage’s third album, Plowing Into the Fields of Love. As the opening notes of “Against the Moon” started in, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was going to be a really difficult project. And I was only on album 1 of 52. What had I gotten myself into?
Perhaps it was my environment that had led to such a unfavorable first taste of Plowing… – I was on a cramped commuter plane heading from DC to New York – but something about that initial listen rubbed me the wrong way. However, being the insurmountable apex of tenacity I am, I grit my teeth and finished the record, wondering how I’d convince myself to listen to it again the next day – let alone the five days after that.
But, surprisingly – or maybe not so surprisingly – the next listen fielded much better results. On the C train headed to Fulton Station, I found my toe tapping. My head was nodding. I was starting to come to peace with Iceage.
As the week went on, the album increasingly grew on me. I found the opening hook to “Oh My Fingers” plaguing my subconscious, the opening track acting almost as a siren’s call beckoning me to listen again. By week’s end, listening to the album wasn’t so much a chore. I still don’t know if I could say it was a pleasure, but I found myself looking forward to certain parts of the album.
“The Lord’s Favorite” was a standout, with its upbeat train-rhythm making it easily accessible – I was not surprised to later find out this was Iceage’s single for the record. I also was drawn to the brooding swing of “Abundant Living,” a quick two and a half minute punch to the gut halfway through the album.
I’m a lo-fi music junkie. I love raw instrumentals and vocals, and Iceage fits into that pretty well, with the caveat being that they are almost too raw. By that I mean, the tempos seem inconsistent within individual songs and there are times where “sloppy” is still the only word I can summon to descruibe what’s happening.
The other, more central misgiving for me was Elias Rønnenfelt’s voice. I’ll give the guy the benefit of the doubt in that he’s Danish, but so was Hamlet. And I love Hamlet. Rønnenfelt sounded half asleep and fully drunk most of the album, slurring words and hardly keeping any discernible rhythm. I really rather enjoyed some of his punk rock grunts and scoffs he’d throw in, but there were times it went a bit far (see: “Cimmerian Shade” where i couldn’t tell if he was upset, constipated or something in between). Like most unique voices, I did come to peace with it, understanding its place within the overall atmosphere of the band.
All in all, Plowing… was a great way to start the project. It showed me that something I may have regularly quit before the second song ended turned out to have some good tunes that opened my eyes to a different area of lo-fi than what I’d already discovered.
And that, my friends, is what this experiment is all about.
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Released: October 7th, 2014
Suggested by: Jack Thomas
For project details and to suggest your own favorite album, visit the intro page.