Lost Girls
'
Jenny Hval
and
Havard Volden
packed more ideas and experimentation into the two tracks of their 2018 EP
Feeling
than many acts can muster on several albums. On their first full-length,
Menneskekollektivet
(Norwegian for "human collective"), they ask even more questions and challenge more norms.
Hval
Volden
have worked together for years: In addition to this project and their early-2010s collaboration
Nude on Sand
,
is a longtime member of
's band. Their enduring partnership has only honed their intuition and encouraged their spontaneity, and
may be their most free-flowing mix of guitar, electronics, spoken word, and melodies yet. Perhaps it's because the album marks the first time
recorded in a professional studio, but their improvisations unfold and immerse the listener more quickly and completely than some of their previous work. As on
, they play with the constantly shifting relationship between artist and audience, yet
's explorations of the communal experiences of creating and living take on a much greater scope. When
intones "We exist and sound hugs our bodies" and
responds with a starburst of synths on the title track, it feels like they've called a galaxy into being. As
examines the relationships between thought and emotion and selfishness and selflessness over the track's 12 minutes, it calls to mind her work as an author and solo artist, but her approach is often more open on this album. On "Love, Lovers," the record's other lengthy showcase for
' talents, her admission of how some things cannot be fully captured by words is surprisingly vulnerable considering how skilled she is at expressing thoughts and emotions.
's music fills in these gaps in communication ably, touching on jazz and going deeper into the sensual dance leanings of
's 2019 album
The Practice of Love
. "Losing Something" could be synth pop created by an AI (
's lyrics riff on a collection of poems and short prose created by a computer program named Racter), and proves that the album's shortest songs are as fully realized as its longer ones. A retro dance beat propels the wordless vocalizations of "Carried by Invisible Bodies" before
confronts the ever-changing nature of reality by breaking the song's fourth wall and addressing her audience of unknowable listeners as if they were right in front of her. Like
's other work together,
is more of an experience than a set of songs to be consumed passively, but it's a richly rewarding listen for those who give it the attention it deserves. ~ Heather Phares