The music made by Danish art-rock ensemble Efterklang is powerful but, in some ways, unsubtle. They like grandly marching percussion, swirling orchestration, and frequent crescendos. Their vocals are stirring but stiff: Lusty chants, murmurs, and held notes fill out sweeping choral arrangements, mostly devoid of melisma and swing. Compensating for the slight stuffiness is a certain breed of indie gravitas-- they clap their hands and close their eyes and lift their faces to the sky with convincing reverence. If Under Byen, another Danish band who collaborated with an orchestra (on Siamesisk), are Denmark's Sonic Youth, then Efterklang are its Arcade Fire, with a bit of Sufjan Stevens' rootsy chamber music for good measure.
Under Byen are good, but they have a sneaky, disturbing sound. Efterklang are Denmark's most world-class indie band, and they seem acutely aware of it, wearing the mantle of cultural ambassador heavily. From debut album Tripper to Parades to Performing Parades, a live recording of their sophomore album with the Danish National Chamber Orchestra, they've charted a bourgeois-friendly course from post-rock to orchestral-rock to classical. Performing Parades is beautifully played and immaculately recorded-- only the well-bred applause betrays its live status. However, the music was a lot to take in before the orchestra was added, and now, it blurs the line between pageantry and pandering. From the sorrowing piano of "Mimeo" to the towering string trills of "Illuminant", the music is monotonously epic. It's like one dramatic image stretched feature-length: The hero on the cliff, jaw jutting, with his cloak blowing romantically in the wind, for a solid hour.
Still, there are many wonderful moments on Performing Parades that inspire undiluted awe. On "Polygyne", the orchestra lays low during the tense verses, then pushes into the mounting vocal harmonies with gusty strings and horns, to goosebumpy effect. "Mirador", already a very pretty song, becomes even prettier with weepy strings in counterpoint to its staggered vocal refrains. "Frida Found a Friend", which was originally a sort of organic IDM track, benefits from the added thickness and weight. It's just that after a few tracks, all the blood-pumping orchestration gets banal, almost deadening. The many opportunities for subtly recasting the songs are mostly ignored, in favor of high-piled fanfare. The whole thing starts sounding like postmodern holiday music, darkly chipper and overwrought-- something like Haydn's Toy Symphony, but with big drums and elves chanting about birds doing inspiring things on top of it. Gorgeous, but the pomp overloads the circumstance.
