Sometimes, when you are hmming and ahhing about what to write about (and there is a lot of it, Scandinavia is back in business after the holidays) a band provides you with the answer.
The first thing I see when I turn the computer on is a message from Kuplir, a Norwegian band that has just released its first single. So we might be the first to review it.
They say the music could perhaps be called ‘Neo-psychedelia’ – basically the 1960s stuff updated with a modern twist – but with a significant touch of traditional Latin American music thrown in. Proponents of NP include the likes of Beach House, The Flaming Lips and Tame Impala.
Now that intrigues me straight away because it’s rare that we touch upon LatinAm rhythms; there aren’t that many bands that I’m aware of in that category, and even more so when I read that their main inspiration comes from classic Cuban melodies and poetry.
Now we’ve had quite a few Swedish poets, or more correctly Swedish artists transposing Swedish and even French poetry into music.
But never a combination like what is promised here.
The Spanish word ‘Déjame’ by the way means ‘let me be’ or ‘leave me alone’, colloquially ‘sod off’ or words to that effect.
And that’s what I’d be inclined to say if someone distracted me from listening from this relaxing yet inspiring piece while swinging in my hammock, sipping tequila and smoking a Havana cigar.
It’s a hot, sweaty, sultry four minutes or so, underpinned by a melodic bass line that literally plays a tune of its own and which gets more complex as it progresses, over jangly guitars and the occasional wild extended guitar note or chord of the sort Anna Calvi excels at, supplemented by the dulcet, enticing tones of the Cuban classically trained Patricia Morales who co-wrote it along with Torbjørn Sandvik, the other half of the duo, and assorted jungle noises.
The two have worked together on several other projects prior to the Covid pandemic, when they began writing songs for Kuplir from within their own isolated circumstances.
Their songs explore the many ways to love and be loved, they say, addressing universal themes such as love, loneliness, sorrow, and rejection, but in a tighter context of living in a distant land, in a foreign culture, far from family. A recurring theme is the difficulties we all face when trying to be ourselves, and our longing for recognition of who we are.
I often think that songs like this succeed if they can create an impression, a picture, of the setting. In this instance I could easily relate it to the James Bond film, Live & Let Die, which centred on a fictional Caribbean island where voodoo was practiced. It isn’t difficult to imagine Bond having his way with a local agent on beach with ‘Déjame’playing in the background while Baron Samedi waits, hidden in the bushes, to put a curse on him.
Perhaps that’s a little too dramatic for what is essentially a love song but the point is that they have the capacity to paint pictures with music, a rare gift.
(Incidentally, I asked Mr Google to translate Kuplir for me and he offered ‘copulates’. Make of that what you will!)
To be honest I don’t hear a great deal of what I would call ‘psych’ but I do hear an attention grabbing Latin American flavoured song that stands out, and sets Kuplir apart, from most of the musical product from Norway.
Find them on:
Instragram: https://www.instagram.com/kuplir_music/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/patmorher (Patricia Morales)
(No FB for the duo, it will be added if/when known).
