Dungen 4 by: Thomas Mendelovits Sun:16-Nov-08 Label: Subliminal Sounds Year: 2008 WB rating 70 out of 100

As Dungen, Gustav Ejstes has always been a pretty trippy Swede. On 2004 breakthrough Ta Det Lugnt, it was hard to believe he played most of the instruments himself. The music was all craftily constructed psych, alright, but it was so fluid, jammy and free that you could barely believe the one-man band hypothesis (truth be told, the guitar and drums on standout tracks such as the blisteringly brilliant ‘Panda’ were handled by Reine Fiske and Fredrik Björling). Because, as much as a band Dungen may sound like, Ejstes has always been posited as its guiding light. 4 promises a shift from this to a sound more centred on band dynamics. Instead of presiding over the parts, Ejstes has apparently planted himself firmly behind the keyboard this time around. Nevertheless, however much a band or a solo project Dungen may be, the delights in listening to him/them continue on 4 to be those that come with the wig-outs with which the band have by now firmly established themselves.

After six records and three studio albums, 4’s comparatively filmic textures seem a natural progression from last year’s Tio Bitar. Nothing may ever match the urgent, psychotic be-bop of Ta Det Lugnt’s most immediately satisfying moments, but 4 seems content with working into and around grooves rather than pounding them through the wall. Opener ‘Sätt Att Se’ is noirish jazz in the vein of Massive Attack or Unkle’s more Baroque moments, albeit with psychedelic rock, and not hip-hop, overtones. The fiddle, which climaxes the track, leads into the pastoral, orchestral pop of ‘Målerås Finest’, which with recorders, flutes and Ejstes trademark (for 4, at least) piano make it the record’s prettiest moment. ‘Det Tar Tid’, featuring bongos, and ‘Mina Damer Och Fasaner’, matches the goofy title (‘My Ladies and Pheasants’) with a bizarre combination of a flamenco-like clapped backbeat, zithers and melismatic guitars. The jumble-of-textures method offers constant interest over inclusive cohesion and, even as Dungen never sound routine, 4 does somewhat lack a defining moment.

Across 4, Ejstes’ voice is mostly overshadowed by the compositional experiments. It’s not the most splendid or wide-ranging instrument in the Dungen repertoire (that honour would have to go to Reine Fisk’s guitar work) but still, Ejstes vocals only get a run in around half of the record’s 10 tracks. It seems the band, perhaps truly working together for the first time, are keener to see what instrumental ideas they can come up with rather than to let Ejstes guide proceedings with his vocals. An example of this is ‘Fredag’, which has drum fills (Björling’s replacement on 4, Johan Holmegard, does similarly well in the sterling Bonzo-channelling throughout), rhythm changes, tambourines and xylophones where verses and choruses could be. When he does sing, Ejstes’ vocals lack the driving melodic rhythms of Dungen’s finest work, instead assuming the form of another instrumental track.

On the whole, 4 has a complacency intrinsic to its overall atmosphere. While fun, one gets the impression that some of the record – the two ‘Samtidigt’ (or ‘Together’) jams are the most tedious cases – would have been best left on the cutting room floor. There is a reason Dungen exist in the pantheon of our era’s finest psych exponents- they are definitely a great band to listen to; lithe, tight and loose at all the right places and full of astounding turns of musicianship. And they are clearly enjoying themselves on 4. However, with few moments of true clarity, how much the listener gets out of the record is another matter entirely.