Jenny Hval’s new album The Practice Of Love is out at the end of this week, and today she’s sharing one more preview to follow “Ashes To Ashes” and “High Alice.” New single “Accident,” which is accompanied by the project’s first music video, is as conceptually dense as we’ve come to … More »
Jenny Hval is releasing a new album, The Practice Of Love, next month, the follow-up to 2016’s Blood Bitch and last year’s The Long Sleep EP. She’s has shared one song from it so far, “Ashes To Ashes,” and today she’s putting out its second single, “High Alice,” which … More »
Norwegian experimental pop artist Jenny Hval made quite a splash with her brooding 2016 album Blood Bitch, which we named one of the best albums of that year. Since then, Hval has kept busy, releasing music with her collaborative project Lost Girls, putting out 2018’s The Long … More »
If Blood Bitch was a “complete 180°” from Jenny Hval’s previous album, Apocalypse, girl, then what should we consider a new release that promises major-scale pop songs underscored by thematic love and intimacy in the occasional self-described “greeting card” sense of the concept?
Perhaps we’ll be able to justify the stylistic shift with a better term on September 13, when Hval’s new album The Practice of Love is released via Sacred Bones. Although Hval has heretofore exuded a penchant for musical depth and metaphor, The Practice of Love is being touted as her most poetic album to date. Unabashed electronic beats are expected to propel lyrics that examine love in all its variations, though one particular variation was on her mind as she recorded the new album, which has vocal contributions from Vivian Wang, Laura Jean, and Félicia Atkinson. Here’s the principal in her own words:
This all sounds very clichéd, like a standard greeting card expression, but for me, love, and the practice of love, has been deeply tied to the feeling of otherness. Love as a theme in art has been the domain of the canonized, big artists, and I have always seen myself as a minor character, a voice that speaks of other things. But in the last few years I have wanted to take a closer look at the practice of otherness, this fragile performance, and how it can express love, intimacy, empathy and desire. I have wanted to ask bigger, wider, kind of idiotic questions like: What is our job as a member of the human race? Do we have to accept this job, and if we don’t, does the pressure to be normal ever stop?
A pre-order, alongside the above, might be worthy of a mull. Meanwhile, check out the album’s lead single, “Ashes to Ashes,” here:
The Practice of Love tracklist:
01. Lions (feat. Vivian Wang)
02. High Alice
03. Accident (feat. Laura Jean)
04. The Practice of Love (feat. Laura Jean & Vivian Wang)
05. Ashes To Ashes
06. Thumbsucker (feat. Félicia Atkinson & Laura Jean)
07. Six Red Cannas (feat. Vivian Wang, Félicia Atkinson & Laura Jean)
08. Ordinary (feat. Vivian Wang & Félicia Atkinson)
Each December, in an effort to celebrate outstanding achievements and commemorate The Year That Was, the pop culture media industrial complex foists lots of lists upon the world. We here at Stereogum are party to that deluge; we shared our collective conclusions about 2018’s best albums a week ago and have been More »
Every year, the parameters for this list get a little more specious. With the rise of streaming services and the decline of physical media, the distinctions between a 7″ and a 12″ have largely faded away. Today, everything is a “project” or a “collection” or (groan) a “playlist.” Artists are still releasing EPs in name, … More »
Jenny Hval is releasing her very good new The Long Sleep EP today. We’ve only heard one song from it, “Spells,” in advance, though we did name it one of the best songs of the week back when it came out. Today, to ring in the full EP’s release, Hval is sharing a … More »
The Long Sleep
[Sacred Bones; 2018]
There’s something strikingly pensive about the infinity-interrogating spirit shown on both The Long Sleep and Jenny Hval’s preceding release (as Lost Girls with Håvard Volden), Feeling. Her meditations are not precious (nor above preciousness) and frequently bemused about embarrassing, natural garden-variety human mess. Even at her most resplendently soaring-searching, the artist clings to sweaty oblong mantras that flirt with a purgative abject disgrace. She may sometimes passingly resemble a psychotropically compromised self-help guru, but Hval is always in there somewhere laughing with you by sharp little degrees you didn’t know (or had forgotten) were at your disposal.
While listening to these two releases (and to some extent, with the wisty mist turned down, 2016’s Blood Bitch), one can almost picture Hval, for all her disassociative flair, doing stock, montagey normal things like carefully assessing kindergarten drawings, gliding around the circle of kids, irradiated in shivering warmth. In other words, there is occasionally something mildly mundane and domestic about her strangeness, harrowing as it can be. It’s a curious wrinkle, but the artist’s dominating humor is actually more often intrepid or exultant. The whooping at the six-minute mark of Feeling’s “Accept” is close to epitomizing what it feels like when Hval’s music properly sends you. There is an arresting sensation of vast release and midnight blooms. Of untold resilience. You feel it, and you wanna yawp (like Ethan Hawpe).
From riveted at the poetry reading to discombobulated “Celtic Swing” contentment, these small packages manage to weave you into their fabric just as well as Hval’s longer albums. She continues to wield a mighty voice, a mousy voice, a mincing voice. A voice that bracingly bends into an object instrument, heroically rejecting language and the regimented reigning in of one’s primal vitality as a whole. She sounds at home wherever she wanders, and with The Long Sleep’s tell-me-you-aren’t-loving-this infectious centerpiece (“Spells”), this territory now includes a balmy saunter through Mclachland (“Conceptual Romance” came close, but this is closer). Not only is this song a barely-noticeable six minutes long, but it also sophisticatedly brow-furrows Hval’s signature unsettledness into its breezy bounce. “We will not be awake for long” is repeated in bubblegum gospel (pleading vamps included) fashion, but the singer’s conviction (and pristine pitch) is unmistakable and palpably stirring throughout.
In Hval and Volden’s discussion of their musical curation for each other’s funerals, one can get a glimpse of where “Spells” is coming from. It’s that exhilarated reflexive whisper (in-casket acoustics), while you ease your flushed cheek with a cool, steely eye on the finish line. It’s a tender, personal, broken-in sort of death chant. Yet, if there could ever be a resolved way to look at mass human exodus (a notion that renders the very practice of “looking” and “listening” hilariously meager), this song seems to keen for purchase on that impossibly tumultuous mental current. It boasts the ethereal charm of a supermarket siren song, but it’s ultimately closer to the high-walled mercy of fate, besting better angels since nature was nature. Tailing this keening on opposite ends is the “lost” notion of “exercising everything by tapping into nothing.” Interestingly, this line plays interchangeably to solitude, co-dependency and the tentative-to-total regard aimed at the slivery reaches of blinking hallway window lights (audience). Even the mulching drone that takes up much of the second half is flexing this tactile, jawset humming, faraway-fever intimacy. The lyrical self-admonishing solipsism then resembling attentive laments, then rote dispatches, then lines in the sand that you retrace again and again with mindless determination.
Hval parts with a postscript that directly questions, muses, asserts, and finally kisses you on your silly head (“Thank you/ I love you”). It’s a funny feeling to wind up with, (and slightly reminiscent of the ending of this sad old story), but its formality manages to take a dismayingly fleeting listen make it feel momentous. In addition to being another altogether strong effort from the artist, this is both a subtle expanding on and exciting departure from the gorgeous drift of the Lost Girls project. Exciting new terrain aside, there’ll hopefully be more Jenny Hval music to come soon. These 23 minutes do indeed leave one wanting more (not unlike the latest Grouper and Elysia Crampton releases). But even if The Long Sleep is (deep down or hiding in plain sight) a resigned, muted, end-of-the-line Kool-Aid party, the bug juice is delectable enough to call one back from the great unknown for seconds and so on.
Gah…sorry, y’all; I must have…dozed off there…
But, turns out, she’s already announcing the May 25 release of a conceptually-minded (and positively dreeeamy, I’m sure) new EP on Sacred Bones called The Long Sleep??? Holy shit; I’ve got to get my act together. Pass the coffee pot and that press release, will ya?
Okay let’s seee-ee-eeee here: the new EP was recorded “with longtime collaborator Håvard Volden and producer Lasse Marhaug,” alongside a supporting cast of the region’s most somnambulant jazz cats — Kyrre Laastad on percussion, Anja Lauvdal on piano, Espen Reinertsen on saxophone, and Eivind Lønning on trumpet. It also finds Hval “embracing an instinctive, even subconscious, approach to creating meaning” and foregrounding “the act of composition itself, letting the melodies and structures reveal the other elements of the songs.” Here’s a statement from Hval:
What am I doing here? Am I communicating? Am I promoting?
I just want to tell you something.
There should be something I could tell you, there should be something I could do to reach you directly, but there is nothing useful in the way we define “you”, or “me”. There should be something I could tell you, there should be something I could say directly without lyrics and melody.
Maybe that’s what I’m trying here. Something else than lyrics or melody. It’s not the words. It’s not in the rhythm. It’s not in the streaming. It’s not in the “message”. It’s not in the product. It’s not in the algorithms. It’s not something you decided. It’s not something they decided for you.
I want to tell you something. I just want to say: Thank you. I love you.
Whoa. Well THAT sure woke me up! Okay — I’m in. Where do I pre-order this thing? (Oh okay; right over here). And where do I listen to the first single, “Spells?” Oh okay; right down here:
The Long Sleep’s short tracklist:
02. The Dreamer Is Everyone In Her Dream
03. The Long Sleep
04. I Want To Tell You Something
Norwegian experimental artist Jenny Hval has a pretty good track record. Her 2015 album Apocalypse, girl explored bodies and human sexuality and gender dynamics, and we named it one of the best albums of 2015. Her 2016 album Blood Bitch explored the intersection of menstruation, vampire lore, and ’70s exploitation films, and we … More »