Kings of Convenience Albums (4)
'Declaration of Dependence'
Release Date 9/25/2009
Tracks 13
Label Source
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
In the five years since their last record, the duo of Erlend Øye and Erik Glambek Bøe have each been busy, Øye with DJ gigs and his other band the Whitest Boy Alive, and Bøewith his day job and fighting Clear Channel in their hometown of Bergen, Norway. Getting back into Kings of Convenience mode sounds like it was as easy as putting on a fresh pair of socks. Their third album, Declaration of Dependence, sounds like it could have been recorded at the same session as Riot on an Empty Street; it's just as relaxed, mellow, and dreamy. The pair's voices blend like honey and more honey, each of them possessing vocal chords made of cotton candy. They twine their voices around complex but warmer-than-a-Snuggie harmonies on every song; the comparisons to Simon & Garfunkel still hold up, though by now they really sound most like themselves, and not imitators. This album is sparser than the last; there are no guest vocals and very infrequent extra instruments (strings, piano). It gives the proceedings a very intimate sound, between this, the duo's hushed voices, and the peaceful songs, it's even quieter and more subdued than anything they've done so far. The mood of introspective reflection never breaks, and almost becomes unbearably powerful on a track like "My Ship Isn't Pretty." Bøe and Øye pull no punches and spare no emotions, they are skilled veterans who know how to format and pace an album. The only thing the record lacks is a song as catchy as "I'd Rather Dance with You," or any songs with drums. It's not really a problem, though, since the overall effect of the album's melodies adds up to something just as powerful. A few of the songs stand out as possible singles, too, like the bossa nova-y "Mrs. Cold" or the almost peppy anti-war song "Rule My World." The lack of drums isn't much of a problem,either, the acoustic guitars that underpin the songs provide all the rhythmic push they need. Adding drums might have spoiled the introspective and feather-light feel of the record. Anyone who's been on their bandwagon all along will be glad of that, as they'll rejoice that Declaration of Dependence turns out to be another autumnal treasure from the Kings. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
'Riot on an Empty Steet'
Release Date 7/27/2004
Tracks 12
Label Astralwerks
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Riot on an Empty Street ends a long period of inactivity for Kings of Convenience. During their three-year layoff Erlend Øye could be found making solo records and DJing while Eirik Glambek Boe was finishing his psychology degree. Luckily for fans of beautiful vocals and thoughtful indie pop, they decided to get back together. What this band is all about is the sound of Boe and Øye's voices blended together in harmony. Their first album (in both incarnations) erred on the side of consistency. Here the band seems to have learned the all-important lesson of pace and variety. The arrangements are fuller too with pianos, strings, the occasional electric guitar, and lovely guest vocals on two tracks from Broken Social Scene member Leslie Feist. Not to say that they have gone crazy with change. They still stick pretty closely to the acoustic guitars and vocals path, and the tone of the album is autumnal and restrained as before. They have just added more songs like the gently driving "Misread," the lilting waltz "Stay Out of Trouble," and the downright peppy "I'd Rather Dance With You." Øye's side trip into electronica only rears it's head on the non-electronic but modern-sounding "Love Is No Big Truth." No matter what the song, though, when their tender, fragile voices harmonize it can be breathtaking. And heartbreaking. The moment in "Surprise Ice" when Eirik is joined by Erland will raise goose bumps. There are many others like that on Riot, and they are what sells the record. If you sort of liked the first record but wished it was more interesting, that it had more punch of both the sonic and emotional variety, then your wishes have come true. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
'Quiet Is the New Loud'
Release Date 3/6/2001
Tracks 12
Label Astralwerks
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Under an album title that practically became a mantra for the European music press, Kings of Convenience display everything that is right and everything that is wrong with the new acoustic movement. The duo employs their guitars to create touching ballads at will, but they forget to vary their pace at times. Quiet Is the New Loud is immeasurably gentle. Comparing the band to Belle and Sebastian and Nick Drake, as so many music critics are prone to do, isn't quite right. It's nearly impossible to find a hint of irony in the music of Kings of Convenience, whereas Belle and Sebastian's Stuart Murdoch seems to have his tongue firmly planted in cheek. Drake sought the mystical and natural elements of his short life to create his art. Kings of Convenience seem to merely seek calm moods and discuss relationships. Acoustic guitars are constantly rolling and a minimal piano plucks out delicate notes. The most interesting songs tend to be those where the band picks up their pace. "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From" is quite beautiful, as Erik Glambek Boe's vocals take on a charged immediacy. The song is reminiscent of the more pop-oriented sound Ben and Jason achieved on their excellent Emoticons album. "Parallel Lines" sounds more than a little like a slowed-down, sadder take on Morrissey's "Seasick, Yet Still Docked." If Quiet Is the New Loud had a quicker pulse, at least on a few more tracks, it would have been more successful. Instead, the album makes for an enticing, somewhat over-dour rainy day mood-piece. ~ Tim DiGravina, All Music Guide
'The Kings of Convenience'
Release Date 1/1/2000
Tracks 10
Label Kindercore
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
While Kings of Convenience's self-titled debut shimmers with dreamy lyrics and soothing melodies à la Belle and Sebastian, it is ultimately an album that frustrates the listener with its unrealized potential. Songs like "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From" have airtight harmonies and warm lyrics that create a laid-back yet astute mood: "I realized that you/had changed into somebody for whom I wouldn't mind to put the kettle on." The band's unconventional lyrical approach -- words that make better letters than poems -- is matched by a keen sense of the subtle. The shame of the album is that the album never strays from its own aura. Every note is crisp and clear, but there are no alternate instruments; some songs beg organs or horns. Guitars dance around words deftly but only with strumming that is downright predictable. Repetition drags the album down, although their sense of melody is a saving grace worth every note. Think of this album as the Duncan Sheik record you're not ashamed to own, and then hope for the next record, when the music matches the maturity and intensity of the vocals. ~ Jaime Vázquez, All Music Guide
