You'd figure that one of the world's best pop combos returning after a
six-year interim would be cause for a mighty celebration, but Komeda's
fourth album seems to have barely measured a blip on the mass (read:
U.S.A.) pop-cultural radar — so much so that, for many, the group's triumphant
return may still be a secret. Belatedly issued in The
Americka six months after its release in Sweden in late ought-three, the
joyously-moniker'd Kokomemedada has, indeed, been so long awaited that
many would've assumed that Komeda had pulled up stumps and called it a
day. After all, nary a peep had been heard from the hot-shit outfit
since they contributed the genius-like pop-blowout "B.L.O.S.S.O.M." to
the Powerpuff Girls: Heroes and Villains soundtrack, a collecktion of
Powerpuff-inspired and suitably candy-color'd songs from the
rascally ranks of Cornelius, Shonen Knife, Dressy Bessy, the Apples in
Stereo, Devo (no, like, really!), Frank Black, Optiganally Yours, and
end-theme authors Bis themselves (a compilation that must never be
confused with the hideous brand-name tie-in Saving the World Before
Bedtime, in which the characters of the show sang cheap-and-cheesy
versions of already-forgotten pop hits by Shakira, Madison Avenue,
Bomfunk MC's et al.).
But one contribution to a cartoon-show-related
compilation does not a six-year span fill in; and, so, the obligatory
news-reports have since come through that the downtime found Komeda
going through the major-label-deal-signing (and the subsequent
procrastinative paper-shuffling that comes with), the
original-member-leaving lineup-change, and the home-studio-building that
often has bands sitting on the sidelines.
The downtime has hardly dented Komeda's artistic thrust; even if the
standout song herein is, indeed, a new version of their
commander-and-the-leader anthem — cast here as "Blossom (Got to Get It
Out)," in which the natty number is redressed in more grown-up threads —
the hippy-dippy guitar and gurgling analog organ have almost a
boogie-rock feel of droning, flanged-out fantasia. This kinda runs
counter to the overall artistic change that's set in on the album. With
the combo now reduced to the core trio of Lena Karlsson and brothers
Jonas and Markus Holmberg, Kokomemedada is the work of a studio concern,
ditching the real drums and muting the guitar strums, working almost entirely
with synth sound, and often getting lost in more introspective
moments.
Where their early trio of albums displayed a rhythmic
restlessness and often cultivated a sort of "jazzy" feeling in their
misshapen pop belters, here every song has come from a continuous
process of refinement, not some geeked-up jam. And, after you get used
to this new Komeda, listening to their magnum opus You Make Us Go
(their last longplayer, now six years old) leaves you breathless. Here, the pace is often more sedate, and Komeda, seemingly, no longer
feel the need to stuff their set with nothing but instantly-memorable
melodies.
It's on the beautiful, graceful "Fade In Fade Out" that this
new tendency in sound shines brightest. Evoking some sort of
Klute-esque zero-gravity reverie in which Karlsson sings behind the
glass of an orbiting space station, the song pirouettes in slow arcs
through all sorts of eked-out and deftly-treated keytone, with
Karlsson's vocals — swapped phrases of "fade in/fade out" and "and the
Earth is getting warmer" — set in constantly-overlapping rounds that
turn the song forward. It's a beautiful, beautifully restless ballad in
which everything spins in gentle circumvolutions, turned circles set in
graceful slow-motion motion. But, yet, the complexities of its
arrangement aren't really audible on casual listening, something that's
symbolic of the whole album.
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