Every musician has a vision of sorts – they have their quirks and their sounds and even their gimmicks. Producing anything creatively is first and foremost a self indulgent past-time, and most artists would argue that they aren't so cynical as to try and work out what sells when they are developing their ideas.
At the same time, there is always a fan out there who will be enamoured by the weirdest, strangest, off the wall sounds going. Those who enjoy something because of it's peculiarity alone. There are some truly talented people out there, doing truly creative things, and although they may only be celebrated by a small fanbase, it's often a happy existence. Every muso likes to have their very own act to keep to themselves. But it's extremely hard to imagine anyone who could enjoy listening to the eponymous album from Snoleoparden.
'Nr 1' is the album opener, the sound of a year 8 music class warming up, with carious Xylophones, recorders and other plinkety-plink instruments joining forces to create something utterly tuneless and unlistenable. It's builds up until all is left is screeching. 'Hodja Fra Pjort' is largely sung by children, and for this reason alone it is utterly horrible. For anyone who has had to deal with a kids birthday party in their lives, this will no doubt send shivers down the spine. Sadly, this is one of the more accessible moments of the album, as at least it has some sort of form. It's a standard indie song, with standard vocals, but with the quirk of far too many children singing along with it. And then it all becomes clear – the next track is called 'Xylofon' and it is exactly that. There is a reason that some instruments are used for percussion and primary school music lessons alone. At best, this would make a good soundtrack to Teletubbies: The Movie.
'Water Puppet Theatre' is the sound of a brain tumour, wailing and caterwauling over a vaguely trippy beat, it's meant to be dark, but it fails to produce any sense of atmosphere, or the foreboding that it is trying to convey. To hear this done well, please see Liars back catalogue.
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Throughout the rest of the album, many instruments are employed, and almost all of them without rhythm. In some circles, this album will be lauded as dangerously experimental, but the reality is that it's merely a mish-mash of poor ideas. The press release calls it “childish ingenuousness,” which can be read as meaning the sound of a three year old in a big box of instruments.
It's obvious that the intention here is to prevent a diverse range of songs, but the difficulty is that it is all totally self indulgent, and simply unenjoyable. It may draw from a range of influences, but that doesn't make it good. The opening of “Lillecykell” is uncomfortable, and it really isn't music. “Dreng” is pakistani folk music, but it's done badly, the point of being nearly offensive (the only positive thing to say about it is it is less than two minutes long, and thus one of the only songs on the album that I made it to the end of). As a whole, Snoleoparden isn't everything he thinks he is. There's no feeling, no craft, and inevitably no merit to this work.
This album makes you lament the minutes of your life that you have wasted listening to it. At some point in his life, Jonas Stampe has needed a friend to tell him when to stop. I'm not a friend, but I'll stage the intervention if necessary.
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