"Wish me courage, strength, and a sense of humor,"
Karin Dreijer sings on
Radical Romantics, but that's not necessary -- their third
Fever Ray album shows they have these virtues in abundance as they love on their own terms and even dare to have fun with it. Musically,
Radical Romantics may not be quite as revolutionary as its predecessor
Plunge, but the way
Dreijer strips away anything that gets in the way of expressing love, lust, and need still feels adventurous. Indeed, the album's joyous neon heart offers some of
Dreijer's most radiant music since
the Knife's "Heartbeats." It's no coincidence that they reunited with their brother and former bandmate,
Olof Dreijer, who helped
Karin build a studio in Stockholm to create this "love album" and co-produced several of its finest tracks. On "Kandy," the duo streamlines the lilting, tropical tones and tumbling beats fundamental to
the Knife's music to their barest essences, pulling listeners in with an alluring mix of longing and seduction. They sound even bolder on "Shiver"'s queer eroticism, letting streaking synths and flowing beats provide a supple backbone as
Dreijer whoops and draws out the word "shiver" into an eloquent phrase of its own.
Radical Romantics is a homecoming of sorts, but it also finds
Fever Ray casting a wide creative net. They team with
Vessel on "Carbon Dioxide," an ecstatic journey towards true love that traverses classical, disco, and rave while
Dreijer follows their heart wherever it takes them, while
Plunge collaborator
Nidia heightens the airy, searching sweetness of "Looking for a Ghost." These dazzlingly light and bright songs make
Radical Romantics' darker moments that much deeper. With its shuddering beat and looming synths, "What They Call Us" is quintessential
Fever Ray, echoing "If I Had a Heart" in its despair and slow-building tension (it's also one of the few times
Dreijer pitches down their vocals on the album, emphasizing the weary weight it brings to their music). When
Dreijer ventures further into love's shadow side, the results are striking. Dedicated to the bully of one of their children, the
Trent Reznor and
Atticus Ross collaboration "Even It Out" captures the feral protectiveness of parental love -- something rarely expressed in pop music -- in its fierce, brassy stomp. Conversely, "Tapping Fingers" distills the profound loneliness of contemplating mortality next to a sleeping partner with its cavernous tones. Despite these dramatic highs and lows,
Dreijer often seems more relaxed and more forthcoming on
Radical Romantics than on
Fever Ray's previous albums. Fans may have anticipated another epic like
Plunge, but the more approachable, more personal choices
Dreijer makes here are often just as risky and just as rewarding. ~ Heather Phares
