Dreamin' of a Vacation
Cult Swedish duo KWC 92 cough up a sublime 4th album of fantasy ambient on the 10th anniversary of their feted first, this one out via The Trilogy Tapes.
Originally commissioned to musically score a script about “two sisters who grow up in the now demolished Kowloon City, a square kilometer of Hong Kong where no laws prevailed”, which became their debut ‘Dream of a Walled City (O.S.T.)’, KWC 92 reprise their soundtrack style with an album about daydreaming and stay-cationing. Last spotted on L.I.E.S., now with TTT, they impressionistically deploy a palette of heat hazy FM synths harnessed to slow drum machine pulses in a style of lowkey, instrumental storytelling akin to Metal Preyers’ humid fantasies, Christian Love Forum mediations, or groggy 12th Isle goodies, with a sense of Swedish minimalism that keeps it all neatly future-proofed and in its own lane of uchronic invention.
The nine parts play out like the soundtrack to a foreign language film absorbed while heatsick and sweaty in a hotel bed. The elegantly uncoiling shape of ‘Buying Hat’ at once recalls Far eastern film noir as much as spaghetti western whistling and Carpenterian influences, and ‘Passport’ unspools along the keyboard to jazz-funk shimmies in ‘Café au Lait’ recalling Jonquera’s Berceuese Heroique gem, and the sort of atmospheric subtleties in ‘A New Place’ and ‘On the Balcony’ that will no doubt make one forget where they are for a precious minute or three. In their fantasy world, the sublime is often fraught with a sense of dread, as evoked in the amnesiac gloom of ‘Forgetting Home’, and ‘Ready for Love’ even does both at the same time, before ‘Train Ride’ wraps it up like 1991 channelling Tangerine Dream.
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Cult Swedish duo KWC 92 cough up a sublime 4th album of fantasy ambient on the 10th anniversary of their feted first, this one out via The Trilogy Tapes.
Originally commissioned to musically score a script about “two sisters who grow up in the now demolished Kowloon City, a square kilometer of Hong Kong where no laws prevailed”, which became their debut ‘Dream of a Walled City (O.S.T.)’, KWC 92 reprise their soundtrack style with an album about daydreaming and stay-cationing. Last spotted on L.I.E.S., now with TTT, they impressionistically deploy a palette of heat hazy FM synths harnessed to slow drum machine pulses in a style of lowkey, instrumental storytelling akin to Metal Preyers’ humid fantasies, Christian Love Forum mediations, or groggy 12th Isle goodies, with a sense of Swedish minimalism that keeps it all neatly future-proofed and in its own lane of uchronic invention.
The nine parts play out like the soundtrack to a foreign language film absorbed while heatsick and sweaty in a hotel bed. The elegantly uncoiling shape of ‘Buying Hat’ at once recalls Far eastern film noir as much as spaghetti western whistling and Carpenterian influences, and ‘Passport’ unspools along the keyboard to jazz-funk shimmies in ‘Café au Lait’ recalling Jonquera’s Berceuese Heroique gem, and the sort of atmospheric subtleties in ‘A New Place’ and ‘On the Balcony’ that will no doubt make one forget where they are for a precious minute or three. In their fantasy world, the sublime is often fraught with a sense of dread, as evoked in the amnesiac gloom of ‘Forgetting Home’, and ‘Ready for Love’ even does both at the same time, before ‘Train Ride’ wraps it up like 1991 channelling Tangerine Dream.
Cult Swedish duo KWC 92 cough up a sublime 4th album of fantasy ambient on the 10th anniversary of their feted first, this one out via The Trilogy Tapes.
Originally commissioned to musically score a script about “two sisters who grow up in the now demolished Kowloon City, a square kilometer of Hong Kong where no laws prevailed”, which became their debut ‘Dream of a Walled City (O.S.T.)’, KWC 92 reprise their soundtrack style with an album about daydreaming and stay-cationing. Last spotted on L.I.E.S., now with TTT, they impressionistically deploy a palette of heat hazy FM synths harnessed to slow drum machine pulses in a style of lowkey, instrumental storytelling akin to Metal Preyers’ humid fantasies, Christian Love Forum mediations, or groggy 12th Isle goodies, with a sense of Swedish minimalism that keeps it all neatly future-proofed and in its own lane of uchronic invention.
The nine parts play out like the soundtrack to a foreign language film absorbed while heatsick and sweaty in a hotel bed. The elegantly uncoiling shape of ‘Buying Hat’ at once recalls Far eastern film noir as much as spaghetti western whistling and Carpenterian influences, and ‘Passport’ unspools along the keyboard to jazz-funk shimmies in ‘Café au Lait’ recalling Jonquera’s Berceuese Heroique gem, and the sort of atmospheric subtleties in ‘A New Place’ and ‘On the Balcony’ that will no doubt make one forget where they are for a precious minute or three. In their fantasy world, the sublime is often fraught with a sense of dread, as evoked in the amnesiac gloom of ‘Forgetting Home’, and ‘Ready for Love’ even does both at the same time, before ‘Train Ride’ wraps it up like 1991 channelling Tangerine Dream.
Cult Swedish duo KWC 92 cough up a sublime 4th album of fantasy ambient on the 10th anniversary of their feted first, this one out via The Trilogy Tapes.
Originally commissioned to musically score a script about “two sisters who grow up in the now demolished Kowloon City, a square kilometer of Hong Kong where no laws prevailed”, which became their debut ‘Dream of a Walled City (O.S.T.)’, KWC 92 reprise their soundtrack style with an album about daydreaming and stay-cationing. Last spotted on L.I.E.S., now with TTT, they impressionistically deploy a palette of heat hazy FM synths harnessed to slow drum machine pulses in a style of lowkey, instrumental storytelling akin to Metal Preyers’ humid fantasies, Christian Love Forum mediations, or groggy 12th Isle goodies, with a sense of Swedish minimalism that keeps it all neatly future-proofed and in its own lane of uchronic invention.
The nine parts play out like the soundtrack to a foreign language film absorbed while heatsick and sweaty in a hotel bed. The elegantly uncoiling shape of ‘Buying Hat’ at once recalls Far eastern film noir as much as spaghetti western whistling and Carpenterian influences, and ‘Passport’ unspools along the keyboard to jazz-funk shimmies in ‘Café au Lait’ recalling Jonquera’s Berceuese Heroique gem, and the sort of atmospheric subtleties in ‘A New Place’ and ‘On the Balcony’ that will no doubt make one forget where they are for a precious minute or three. In their fantasy world, the sublime is often fraught with a sense of dread, as evoked in the amnesiac gloom of ‘Forgetting Home’, and ‘Ready for Love’ even does both at the same time, before ‘Train Ride’ wraps it up like 1991 channelling Tangerine Dream.