Antenne are all about ambiguity. The artwork to their third album, #3, bears no insignia, the colours are faded and the pair who grace the cover are indistinguishable. Is it Antenne brainchild, Kim G. Hansen, and his partner in crime, vocalist Marie-Louise Munck? Maybe, but if you came to #3 looking for answers, you’re only going to be greeted with more questions.
You really need to confront this music, because it certainly won’ come to you. Antenne is in essence the antithesis of its protagonist’s back catalogue: Hansen’s discography includes the industrial beats of Institute for the Criminally Insane and noise rockers Grind, two acts that commanded, rather than requested, your attention. And so the scene is set from the beginning of the album with “Long to Kiss’; its acoustic guitar underpinning an ocean of synthesiser and the thick, almost impenetrable fog of Munck’ vocals.
“Gloves On’ continues Antenne’ modus operandi of bathing acoustic guitar in subtle modulating synth while Munck sings in her alto range with just a hint of an accent. It’s beautiful, sure, but also naggingly repetitive: Antenne’ amorphous opening songs are going nowhere slowly, and consequently neither does the album, stagnating until it reaches “Ttreaa#7′. It’s only here, with Mikael Fleron’ sibilant saxophone exhalations, where Hansen starts injecting some life into his serene, but up until then, tepid music.
Finally, as if shedding an invisible weight from their shoulders, Antenne offer up the haunting “Ernst’, which finds a minimal piano riffing over a static loop and clean acoustic guitar. From then on, #3 regains ground: the guitar on “End’ chimes like a jewellery box as indistinguishable samples reverb in the distance like a half-remembered dream. “All of Us’ is #3‘ pièce de résistance, a paragon of minimal, downbeat electronica which closes the album with a maniacal tape loop.
#3 unveils itself slowly but if you’re willing to persist, maybe settle down and get cosy with Antenne, your patience will be duly rewarded.
Dom Alessio
