SKOGSBO IS THE PLACE

The first few minutes of Barr’s first full-length album comes off a bit like Gino Vanelli with a little Nicolette Larson harmonizing ala the Mamas & the Papas. It’s definitely a throwback album with an almost California soft rock sound. The septet from Sweden seems to be content to ease the listener into an almost hypnotic slow groove, with accents like slow falling snow in the form of a couple of lazy upright basses and the easy rhythm of undulating bongos and the stark sweet strands of harmonium and flowing flute. This is a winter album of the highest order, despite the opening track titled “Summerwind”.

The band features at least four vocalists, with English lyrics harmonized beautifully throughout in serene and unhurried pace. Despite the bucolic tones, the words tell of lost love and sometimes sad memories, as with the yearning “Words Would Do” that comes across like some sort of Spandau Ballet ballad. This and the opening “Summerwind” are the most conventional-sounding pop tunes on the album, with the band wandering off into pastoral Nordic-folk territory beginning with the acoustic-guitar focused “He ain't a Friend, he's a Brother” which is also accented with delicate glockenspiel chimes and the wispy crooning of guitarist Patrik Andersson. Things slow down even more on “Calling my Name” featuring flautist/pianist Hanna Fritzson’s sad and delicate vocals with male singers backing and more languid guitar.

The title track is also the shortest song on the album at less than three minutes, filled mostly with squeaking acoustic guitar picking and sad harmonium strands, with Andersson’s mild alto and Ms. Fritzson’s quiet chanting the only things keeping this from being a proper instrumental. An interlude piece really, separating the first half of the album from the just as mellow but slightly more adventurous final two tracks.

“Moonfall” begins as subdued as the rest of the album, but Andersson manages to pick up the tempo a bit from time to time as he reflects on the day fading in a setting sun across swaying treetops. This is a beautiful piece of music that seems made to be a backdrop to a long day culminating with quiet conversation with friends at an outdoor café over an apéritif and evening meal.

Barr shows their real potential for progressive folk arrangements most in the closing minutes with the almost post-rock and ranging ten-minute “Sister Lovers Alone”. The glockenspiel rings alongside energetic hand drums and an almost droning bevy of strings while Andersson and Fritzson combine for a duet of mellow acid folk chanting, while the rest of the band wanders alongside. The abrupt shift to synthesized bird songs and muddled spoken-word mumbling is a bit of a distraction several minutes in, but the band quickly recovers and shifts to a hippy-love ending of jangling guitar, flat strings and the rhythmic, four-part and somewhat nonsensical chant of “let’s try to be, and love on our own”. A great ending, especially for fans of late sixties flower-power smooth acid-folk.

Barr are a band with plenty of potential who will surely need to expand their sound and strive for more ambitious arrangements in future endeavors; but if they manage to do so and thrive, this will undoubtedly be revered by fans in future years as a solid and sentimental debut. A solid three star effort, and a very pleasant accompaniment to any lazy winter’s day.

peace