October 9, 2002

Summarizing Ulver's career up till now is tough to do without sounding like you're making it up. This a band who, as teenagers, came out of the gates with a full-on trilogy of concept albums – focused around Norwegian wolf lore, no less – veering musically from somber folk-classical desolation (1995's all-acoustic Kveldssanger) to some of the harshest black metal imaginable (1997's Nattens Madrigal). Then, having established themselves as one of black metal's most revered bands, they shed that skin entirely with Themes from William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1998), a double-disc collage of techno and trip-hop beats, metal guitars, ambient interludes, and spoken word that, not surprisingly, alienated many fans. I can only conclude that they must've made a deal with the devil somewhere along the way in order to pull off the old career-reorienting "incorporation of trip-hop" move – one typically reserved for aging singer-songwriters – and have me actually liking it nearly as much as the music on earlier albums.

Moving us along to the near present, Teachings in Silence compiles two out-of-print EPs (Silence Teaches You How to Sing and Silencing the Singing, both originally released last year) documenting the ever more subtle electronic forays of "Ulver: Mach II." The CD booklet's late-night city-scene photos sum up the musical and aesthetic changes well, contrasting with the howling-wolf and moonlit-forest imagery of old. But even though the sounds they're using here – minimal piano-synths, distant church bells, string sections, occasional down-tempo beats, and crunchy digital static noises – have more to do with Coil, Portishead, or Arvo Pärt than they do with Darkthrone, Teachings still has that nocturnal, loner-music feel that is one of this band's hallmarks. I don't find anything on this disc as powerful or moving as Kveldssanger, but for soundtrack-type listening lurking in the background at 4 a.m., I still enjoy it.

It's hard to say whether this is a stopover before their next big, surprising move, or a sign of Ulver settling into some gray ambient/electronic niche (with praise from the politically correct avant-garde community coming several years down the line). Hopefully the former is true. (Will York)

Sing-Sing
The Joys of Sing-Sing (Manifesto)

Music fans are hailing Sing-Sing as the return of the "shoegazer sound," thanks to the presence of former Lush guitarist Emma Anderson, but it's really all about singer-songwriter Lisa O'Neill. O'Neill's voice dominates The Joys of Sing-Sing, while Anderson, electronic producer Mark Van Hoen, and a team of guest musicians back her with jangling electric guitars, ambient synthesizers, and evocative Moog keyboards.

The result is a futuristic update of Lush's atmospherics over which O'Neill earnestly sings "Me and My Friend," one of the most emotional dedications to friendship since the Smiths' "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out." "There's no noise / Only the birds sing," she declares, "And no boys, no boys / Only her soft skin." O'Neill can also be brutally honest, remarking to an ex-lover, "Baby, you're in my way / You're spoiling the view" on "Feels like Summer." Oddly, though, save for tracks such as "Command," where O'Neill simmers with the promise to "command you / You'd never keep other company," she keeps under wraps what appears to be a formidable singing range. There are only stray hints of her abilities: on "Command," she dreams out loud, singing "if I could" while effortlessly gliding up the vocal scales, and she mimics guitar distortion near the end of "Tegan." O'Neill's approach makes for effectively evocative Britpop, but it's also frustrating to hear her in a milieu that restrains rather than complements her talents.

Likewise, Sing-Sing's unabashedly girlish pop keeps The Joy of Sing-Sing light and effervescent without straying into darker moods that would give it more musical diversity. Subsequently, many of Sing-Sing's songs can't stand up to repeated listens, and minor-chord epics such as "I'll Be" and "You Don't Know" either float away into the anonymity of background music or grow monotonous and joyless. Far from a disastrous effort, though, The Joy of Sing-Sing is both sunnily effluent and enigmatic, leaving considerable room for Sing-Sing to grow beyond the shoegazer tradition that inspires it. Sing-Sing plays Mon/14, Bottom of the Hill, S.F. (415) 621-4455. (Mosi Reeves)

Dälek
From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots (Ipecac)

Don't expect Dälek to journey into the hip-hop mainstream anytime soon, fronting a slew of bikini-ed Barbies, cruising their Newark, N.J., hood in some sleek, pricey ride, and peddling those same-old-sameola, earthly clichés of endless babes and much moola. Dälek's second album, From Filthy Tongue of Gods and Griots, isn't the most obscure artifact to come down the pike, but despite the somewhat down-and-dirty title, it sure isn't reaching out to the pop masses.