Since Sweden's José González hit with "Heartbeats" late last year, Ane Brun has been the Scandinavian most likely to follow in his footsteps. Like González, the Norway-born, Sweden-based Brun ballasts her culturally exotic back story with sparse, English-language songs fluent in the well-established idioms of North American and British folk. But unlike, say, Sondre Lerche, Kings Of Convenience, or even the Cardigans, all of whom pepper their songs with occasional North Germanic trills and slightly skewed-in-translation lyrical quirks, there's nothing in the hard DNA of Brun's music to immediately suggest where she's from. Instead, Brun's surroundings are telegraphed to us obliquely, through the thick fog of her lonely, crystalline songs.
Re-constructed for North American release, this version of A Temporary Dive contains all 10 tracks from Brun's 2005 sophomore outing as well as an extra offering from November's Duets record. Clocking in at just over 42 minutes, it's an easily digestible collection of acoustic ballads and minor key melodies that flits between folksy prettiness and something a little darker. With an unaffected delivery and a clear, clean soprano that occasionally sends up traces of Beth Gibbons or Nina Nastasia, Brun aims for the kind of subtle, spacious songs that work best at 2 a.m., and more often than not, she delivers.
A tangle of guitars, keys, synth drones, and choral voices, opener "To Let Myself Go" establishes the album's glacial, unhurried pace. A love song that morphs into a sort of sleepy hymnal, it makes for an arresting start, but the spell is quickly broken by the twangy, mid-tempo romp of "Song No. 6". Featuring uncharacteristic oversinging from Brun and guest vocalist Ron Sexsmith, the vampy duet is the album's only serious misstep. It feels at odds with the remainder of the record, which hews more closely to the slower, bleaker side of things. As highlights go, there's also the shimmering "Balloon Ranger", which winks at PJ Harvey with a pretty turn about halfway through, the string-drenched "Laid In Earth", and "Where Friend Rhymes With End", wherein Brun cuts through her navalgazing with a jab at her own expense: "I can't believe I'm writing a song/ Where friend rhymes with end".
Despite the fact that most of the songs on A Temporary Dive benefit from a spacious, hands-off production approach, the best thing here is ironically also the most ornate. With creeping strings that sometimes veer into dissonance, xylophones and a shuffling rhythm section, "My Lover Will Go" has a psych-folk undercarriage that's right in line with Gibbons' very underrated solo album, Out of Season. It's hard to hear it and not wish for Brun to go deeper in that direction on her next record, but for now, this is a welcome start.
