As a listener, the way that frontman Timo Kaukolampi talks about his band K-X-P's sophomore LP II might make you a little concerned about your own mental health. And for good reason, as K-X-P are band not to be trusted, perhaps even feared. Take the Finnish group's regrettably overlooked but excellent self-titled 2010 debut, which orbited a smorgasbord of maximalist pop fragments around lockstep motorik rhythms, ultimately leaving brains pleasantly gooped like a sous-vide egg. But it's with II that the self-proclaimed "anti-band" has taken things to a new level, as Kaukolampi has attested to infusing their sound with "free jazz, drone, noise, pop, rock," with an overall emphasis on trying to tap into something "more punk." He's even adopted a sort of alter ego, combining the personalities of "a lunatic occult reverend, a yoga teacher, John Lydon, Freddie Mercury and Rob Halford." Because why not? For a band that should've gotten your attention the first time around, there's no better time to fly off the handle a little bit than with your sophomore release.
K-X-P aren't bullshitting you; II is both more ambitious and vaster in scope than its predecessor, a record that pushes their most far-out tendencies to their respective limits. It is, however, less extreme than Kaukolampi's screeds would have you believe, assuredly the work of a band now very different than from the one that made K-X-P. A set of austere horns leads you into the album's first proper track and single "Melody", as arpeggiations chatter back and forth in ways that will likely remind you of the last Cut Copy full-length. Once the rhythm section locks in place (this is a band that features two drummers, after all), majestic synths build, and the track morphs into something of a coronation, an almost goofy baptismal. It's clear that K-X-P are a band newly unencumbered, beholden to no specific guiding principles. It's this sense of freedom that makes II an engaging, at times very exciting listen, but it also doesn't lead to much cohesion. K-X-P spend most of their time with their heads barely above water, but instead of merely treading, it feels as if they're betting alongside you as to whether or not they'll eventually go under. Needless to say, there's action to be had, and the results are always unexpected.
As a record peppered with tiny little interludes (a snatch of opera runs backwards, synths plink like drops of water, etc.) that stitch things together loosely, it's clear that this recording is intended to be approached as a kind of journey. To paraphrase Robert Downey Jr., you never go full prog, but K-X-P's could-give-a-fuck-ness often trumps the pitfalls of similarly minded efforts. A good portion of these songs do sound like miniature campaigns, chugging forward at various intervals, often as sprawling as K-X-P was tightly coiled. But the heartbeat at the core of II is a human one, rising and falling as dictated by the chaos or heady expanse of these varied environments. So it makes sense that there are now vocals on every proper track, and while they may not always be the wisest inclusion, it's hard to fault Kaukolampi and co. for working outside of their comfort zone.
Much of II exists in a sort of quasi-mythical realm, where medieval chants and regal, rapturous melodies are meant to overwhelm. "In the Valley" reads like a fairytale (featuring vocals from Annie, who Kaukolampi has written and produced for), while "Tears (Extended Interlude)" and "Staring at the Moon" both share a kind of medieval quality (the latter tossing a little Laser Floyd action for good measure). These tracks aren't the strongest K-X-P have ever produced, but their extensive detailing and pervading sense of humor don't render them disposable, either. The real issue is that there isn't enough drama in the ways they build; like closer "Dark Satellite", the next stop always seems to be nowhere, which can feel a little tedious after so long.
But II can get really juiced up on itself, and when it does, there's not much that can get in it's way. K-X-P are a band that's infinitely more dynamic when driven by rhythm, and there a plenty of examples to prove that point here. "Magnetic North", an ode to the band's home country, sounds a lot like "Life During Wartime", cut with just a hint of sinister Nordic doom. "Satan is lord," gargles Kaukolampi, as a group of children cheer emphatically behind him. "For those who are bored," he finishes dryly. More congruent with both halves of II's personality is the boisterous, punked-up "Flags and Crosses", but "Easy (Infinity Waits)" is the real winner, a stomping monster of a tune that's only drawback is that it isn't twice as long (luckily, an extended version appeared on 2011's Easy EP). It's thanks to these big highlights that II becomes a record you walk away from only remembering the best parts, as they largely overshadow all else. It's a skewed take for sure, but like most of what K-X-P do well, an impressive act of sorcery nonetheless.
