So, while Deep Cuts was witty, and Silent Shout was masterful, Tomorrow, In A Year is... Extravagantly bizarre. At times, especially during the slow crawling first part of the record, it's cacophonous to the point that I was for a moment in doubt, whether the drilling machine operating somewhere in my neighborhood, was or wasn't a part of the very complex sound picture, that is painted throughout the start of this record. Operatic vocals throne above vigorous drones, strange blips and samples, like was there no tomorrow for music with beats, riffs and choruses. Parts of the record are just too weird to fathom - take the dreadful 'Variation of Birds', which sees Olof Dreijer violently forcing his samplings of birds of the Amazon apart into utterly inabsorbable sounds. Or how about 'Letter to Henslow', the clear-cut weirdest track, on which the Dreijers yelp and ooh almost inhumanely sounding. And as the first CD closes out with the very, very ambient 'Schoal Swarm Orchestra', Tomorrow, In A Year appears almost indevourably eccentric.
As the second CD takes over, we start to see something vaguely resembling songs, and by 'Colouring of Pigeons' both a steady beat and Karin Dreijer Andersson's mesmerising vocals appears. Together with the following 'Seeds', this is the only part of the record that is visibly The Knife's work. 'Colouring of Pigeons' is an absolutely brilliant piece of work, and even as weird as it is, on this record it becomes a savior, a redemption of harmony and musical progression. 'Seeds' brings us a steady, four-on-the-floor beat, that, honestly, seems slightly out of the place for this record, but it is brave nonetheless. And although the gloomyness somewhat returns, the two final tracks on the album, 'Tomorrow, In A Year' and 'The Height of Summer' carry out this highly evolved latter part of the record.
The theme of the album, and the opera, is Charles Darwin's origin of species, and one must admit that The Knife hit this nail pretty damn well on the head. The music on the album evolves, from mere blips and drones at first, and on to full-fledged electronic masterfulness in 'Colouring of Pigeons'. At places, the album really connects to the biological evolution story as well, such as on 'Upheaved', where Lærke Winther and Kristina Wahlin Momme besing the very creation of life, accompanied by sounds of algae and amoeba, as they wring and rattle in the Earth's fetal fat. Very impressively strong and clear pictures are painted through the music here.
Christ, we all knew that The Knife were weird. If it wasn't for their music (I have sadly never heard their eponymous debut album, but it is said to be even more eccentric than Deep Cuts), then maybe for their very awkward relationship with the media, and public appearances dressed in bird masks or red burqas and mud-like masks, uttering animal sounds as thanks for their numerous awards and prizes. And the weirdness is what ultimately catches up to Tomorrow, In A Year. For all its utter brilliance and creativity, I have a tough time imagining who on God's almighty Earth will listen to this regularly. As a whole, it is very seldom an appropriate and enjoyable listening experience, but maybe that's what it's not all about. For now, The Knife have definitely made an album to surpass Battles' Mirrored in inaccessibility and untimeliness. I am very curious as to where Tomorrow, In A Year will place on end-of-year lists this year. At times bizarrely, almost atrociously cacophonous, at times pushing the bar for musical evolution and brilliance, I honestly don't have a clue.
