26/10/16
Obel's first two albums, the delicate Philharmonics and the piano-led Aventine were deeply personal, yet infused with the Danish spirit of hygge, a cosy intimacy which rebuffs formality. Whilst Citizen of Glass still contains elements of hygge the overwhelming theme here is of challenging transparency and openness (the title being a translation of gläserner bürger, a German concept governing privacy and disclosure of knowledge about an individual).
Using a rich assortment of keyboard instruments, including a trautonium (a rare metal-keyed synthesiser from the 1920's), Obel sets out to examine her own conflicting ideas about privacy as an artist. Not surprising, perhaps, that the opening track Stretch Your Eyes bristles with paranoiac apprehension until the single Familiar concedes a dreamier and more relaxed mood. In Trojan Horses the observed becomes voyeur, Obel's vocals gently withdrawing behind a gentle veil of strings and percussion, only for the title track to highlight the power of sadness in a beautiful and moving arrangement worthy of cinematic soundtrack.
This is an ambitious and atmospheric offering from Agnes Obel, one that deserves to elevate her to a much wider audience. Without doubt, one of my favourite albums of the year so far.
8/10