Matt Shimmer

Of course, this work of opposites mainly succeeds because of the open and bipolar constitutions of its two protagonists: Sara Lunden a Singer/Songwriter with a knack for intruiging textures and Andrey Kiritchenko an experimental musician with an interest in the song format. Their musical relationship is less a complementary one, but could be described as two inversely shaped sine waves reciprocally reinforcing each other’s wave peaks.

Then again, “There was no end” feeds from more than just a single contrast. Commissioned by the Swedish Institute, it is an intercultural project between Lunden’s home of Sweden and Kiritchenko’s native Ukraine, binding together purely electronic and traditional acoustic instruments, field- and studio-recordings. Keeping all this in mind, it is obvious why this mini-album has turned out so eclectic in its stylistic outreach - and quite astounding that it has ended up so homogenic in its emotional impact.

The latter must be attributed to the fact that Sara Lunden was responsible for the entire raw song material, which was later augmented by the inclusion of her partners’ “objects, drums, programming and editing”. Her pieces are like thought-loops, short impulses which run circles in her mind for a couple of minutes, before disappearing into the void again. Lunden passes on these moments seemingly without filter, sharing erotic, passionate, depressed states and obsessions freely with the listener.

Just as with experimental prose, the result is that repeated text passages are constantly changing their meaning, sometimes assisted by subtle transformations in recording techniques. “Don’t you remember” starts off as a dialogue with a former lover, then gradually evolves into an inner monologue, with Lunden whispering the words “Don’t you remember at all?” as though she were trying hard to bring back the memories herself. On “Erotic Dreams”, meanwhile, which has a distinct melodic similarity with PJ Harvey’s subaquatic fantasy “Down by the River”, the mere insinuation of her private dreams is much stronger than actually spelling them out in full.

Kiritchenko’s contribution is much more than a mere production assignment, fully justifying the credit on the cover. His cinematically wide bass fields, cool tribal drumming, bird chirps, backwards echoes and discreet organ harmonies provides the pieces with rich layers of sound, without ever clogging up their pores – tracks always have enough breathing space, except for those instances, where a slightly claustrophobic sensation is part of the underlying theme.

With Sara Lunden also handling synthesizer duties, their work gets mutually intertwined. “There was no end” is a true collaborational effort, which feels as though both artists couldn’t be sure at the end, who played what. The experimental factor adds to the intensity of the compositions, but it integrates itself so seamlessly into the pieces that the result feels completely relaxed and casual: Even though it uses elements from both worlds, this is definitely more pop than sound art.

By Tobias Fischer

Review by: Maurizio Pustianaz

"Oh so Blue" sees the pitter-patter of Kiritchenko's sounds meeting Lunden's vocals and synths. "Don't you remember" is a tranquil walk through morning dreams. Lunden guides us through it ever so gently even while the song starts to squeak eerily. "Erotic Dreams" sees the pair carefully build a rousing but also perplexing mood. Lunden's vocals discreetly hide amid the instrumentation, revealing less than one might assume by the title. But that's intriguing.

This album is over in way to short a time. Its essence lingers long.

Copyright © 2007 Anna Maria Stjärnell

What exactly the mystery of female singers from the farthest north of Europe really is (Bjцrk, Frida Hyvцnen, et. al.) is far beyond me. There probably is something in the water or in the air. I might just be diluded by a not representative sample of singers that reach me, but when have I ever written about something else but my own illusions of what reality could be like. I also have the hunch that Sara Lunden has a penchant for producing music with men she has or has had an affair with, which I have no proof for other than the deepness of how the songs are being played together and a certain sense of relationship in the sound. Oh yeah, and the illustration on the cover of the record, which displays a certain kind of intimacy. To note, I am not interested in what she does in her private life, but if it has an effect on the music, then I take a note. And there definitley is an effect in affection.

What is also fascinating, is the electronic fundaments that Andrey Kiritchenko lays down for Saralunden to sing on. Not only do they contain some guitar here and there and other “real” instruments, but the most amazing thing is how sensitive and gentle Kiritchenko uses his electronic tools to support the vision of the song. I know him to have used his tools for mostly power measures and walls of pure distortion as well. But here there is no piercing of eardrums or shocking of listeners intended. He steps back and opens up doors and stairways for Saralunden to expand on. All for the sake of the song. At other times he uses tiny snippets and samples of Sara Lundens singing, on the beginning of “oh so blue” only the breathing sounds of her, to add shapes and fragrances to the basis of the tracks.

Thematically the songs are close again to what has been laid down on “dubious” as well. Love and love lost, the depths and heights of personal relationships and private obsessions. “I have had erotic dreams about you” she sings on “erotic dreams” something I am sure you won’t hear from either Celine Dion or KT Turnstall in the near future. This openness in exploring her own inner self, her psychosis and psyche makes the songs more honest and more real, no matter how much electronics there are in the back. Hyvцnens piano is no more real as an instrument than Kiritchenko’s switchboard. The opener “Come with me” is sparsely but originally arranged, later on the arrangements become more lively, layered and dense.

Even though the label calls its new branch “more accessible” this is no easy music, especially not when you dare to listen closely and really dig into the songs and the music. There are many hidden depths and cliffs in the dark waters around here. The dancing sounds of swirling electronic butterflies around Saralunden’s voice on “Oh so blue” only add balance to the hurried and worrying breathing sounds mixed further in the back. The depth of the melancholy and the tinge of pain in the singing of “don’t you remember”, a song about lost love if there ever was one. Lyrics like “don’t you remember, how it felt so good, when we first kissed” that sound bland and immature written down, gain in size and emotional depth with the ability of the interpreter, the singer. There is so much in these songs it is impossible to name it all. And yet this is only six songs on one CD-EP. I wish there were no end.