Abramis Brama, Tusen År: Thousand Year Wildfire
Posted in Reviews on May 9th, 2018 by JJ Koczan
There’s just nothing here to argue against. I’m sorry. Usually in a review I find it appropriate to cite areas of potential growth as well as what’s really working and the narrative of a given album, but to take a band like Stockholm’s Abramis Brama, who release their seventh album, Tusen År, through Black Lodge Records and with it embark on a 45-minute journey through rock as timeless as it is willfully dated — a style they’ve long since mastered in an aesthetic they helped define — and yeah, I just don’t hear anything in these eight tracks that doesn’t work.
Founding vocalist Ulf Torkelsson and founding guitarist Per-Olof Andersson, partnered once again with the tenured rhythm section of bassist/backing vocalist Mats Rydström (also Avatarium) and drummer Fredrik Liefvendahl (formerly of Grand Magus) — in the band for six and 13 years, respectively — celebrate two decades since their initial single was released with a collection that basks in raw classic heavy rock energy and form. They cover Ashbury with the translated-into-Swedish “Vägen ut” and work in the tradition of bands like November and Träd, Gräs och Stenar in playing proto-heavy and progressive, folk-infused rock on a cut like “Slutet av tunneln,” which ends side A of a well-split vinyl record big on quality and light on pretense as only a band with two decades under its collective belt can be if it so chooses. If nothing else, Tusen År reaffirms that Abramis Brama have been long underrated in the international underground.
No doubt part of that is their Swedish lyrics, but in listening to their work on Tusen År, or the preceding 2014 outing Enkel Biljett (discussed here) or 2009’s more polished-seeming Smakar Söndag (review here), let alone a record like 2005’s Rubicon (discussed here), the fact that the songs are in Swedish is an essential part of the band’s character and sonic persona. It’s something from which they’ve veered only once, on 2003’s Nothing Changes (discussed here), and that’s something they still blame on their record label at the time, Sweden Rock. Either way, theirs stands among the most storied careers in the Swedish heavy rock, and tracks like the uptempo one-two kick of “Löpeld” and the ping-ride-infused roller “Vem du är” at the outset of Tusen År only underscore the immense respect the band is due.
Cleanly produced but overarchingly natural with backing vocal harmonies, hooks and flowing grooves, the initial salvo sets the tone for much of what follows, though as Abramis Brama move into the title-track, they immediately expand the palette of mood to encompass more brooding vibes and a bluesy harmonica solo from Torkelsson amid the sleek shuffle of the verse and bouncing chorus declension. At the halfway point, the title-track breaks into an acoustic-laced jam but eventually pulls back to the more weighted push of its hook before fading out and giving way to “Slutet av tunneln,” to which it has provided a subtle and fluid lead-in. The aforementioned side A closer has its louder moments, starting at 2:32 and just barely leaving room at the end for a return to the quiet acoustic guitar that started out, but the personality of the piece is more defined by its mellow vibe and offers a singular moment to which the winding course of Tusen År‘s side B will ultimately not return, in spite of expectation otherwise.
The shortest track on Tusen År at 3:24, “Fel kvinna” is primo boogie rock, thick in tone but well geared toward its rhythmic movement and subtly precise drumming, with little space for frills amid its hook and tambourine-inclusive drive. “Vengeance” was included on Ashbury‘s 1983 outing, Endless Skies, and apart from the translation and a better balance in the mix, Abramis Brama are pretty loyal to the original version, featuring the guitar in lead and rhythm layers atop a nodding groove and the flowing vocals that accompany. This departure from original material sets up the transition into closing duo “Hav av lögner” and “Ta mig tillbaka,” two of Tusen År‘s longest — 7:04 and 8:26 — tracks but also some of the catchiest, and, in a mirror of “Löpeld” and “Vem du är” at the beginning, two songs that work in a similar fashion to define some of the essential elements of the album as a whole.
Neither Abramis Brama‘s prowess as songwriters nor their chemistry as performers was in particular doubt, but both are reaffirmed in the ’70s boogie party of “Hav av lögner,” and I don’t care what’s your first language, by the time it gets around to delivering its title line, “Ta mig tillbaka” is 100 percent singalong-worthy. The closer starts out patiently and makes its way gradually through its initial verses, but don’t be fooled — the good times are on their way, and 20 years on from their first radio airplay, Abramis Brama sound like they’re having an absolute blast as “Ta mig tillbaka” swings to its harmonica-topped finish at about 7:30, only to give way to vague, echoing acapella vocals that remind of some lost 45RPM record from the mid-’60s but fade out as an epilogue to the absolute blast beforehand.
Like I said at the outset, there’s nothing to complain about here. This is simply a band aware of who they are and how to make their sound go where they want it to go, ace crafters of classic-style songs that bring a stamp of their own persona to everything they do. It’s not every year a new Abramis Brama comes along, but when one does, it’s almost certainly going to be an occasion to celebrate. That’s certainly the case with Tusen År.
