Photo of The Mary Onettes by Mette Hultesjö
Sweden’s The Mary Onettes debuted in 2007, garnering blog buzz (which was the style at the time) with their self-titled LP, which fused stormy post-punk, synth-goth moodiness, and a mystical noir reminiscent of The Church. They followed it up with 2009’s Islands, which expanded the group’s inherent marine layer gloom with sweeping strings and a spacious resonance evoking Echo and the Bunnymen’s Ocean Rain. But as their star continued to rise, the Mary Onettes slowed down. Frontman Philip Ekström began composing for film, and the group took a Nordic “quality of life” approach to their career, continuing to release music as a slow stream of standalone singles and EPs. The quality remained, but the pace did little to raise the band’s profile beyond its core fan base of Swedish indie pop and dream pop aficionados.
Sworn, the group’s first full-length since 2013’s Hit the Waves, is filled with the defense of the dark hearts that the band does so well, and quite unlike anyone else. The record arrived in late November, just in time for the sun to pull the blanket up over its head and sleep in during the long, dark winter months. The title track’s woozy, ringing shuffle brings to mind the paradoxical beauty and depression of an 8 AM December sunrise.
Album closer “Stop This Melody” is an epic turn from a group whose hallmark is impactful restraint. Martial drums and a swarm of synthesizers builds to a ticking, staticky end. The song never explodes, but grows to a chorus that slowly fades away, like the head of a draft beer admired too long. The slowly building “Honest Moon” is a sleeper contender for the album’s best song. After a delicate opening section, it bursts into a shimmering finale that sounds like a marching band auditioning for a spot on John Peel’s BBC show.
There have always been recurring elements in Philip Ekström’s lyrics. Ghosts. Pain. Heart. Fear. Love. Words both monosyllabic and meaningful. Fear takes center stage in the spacious “Tears to an Ocean,” which features a saxophone rushing in at the end that sounds like a sigh of relief. The band’s lyrics have long been alluringly vague, but capable of great impact. They help make each song an impressionist painting of haunting, loss, and regret – and one with an oddly hopeful heart.
Ekström’s muted, forlorn vocals themselves have always been part of the band’s mood pieces. But while still part of the gauzy whole, his voice has never sounded more clear, and confident, than it does here. Look no further than lead single “Hurricane Heart,” which features a skittering beat and bounding, chiming guitars alongside vocals that plead like the protagonist in a John Hughes film.
Sworn contains enough of the Mary Onettes’ signature elements, with just enough new touches (check the vaporwave influenced “Without This Body”), to make the album a gift to unwrap for long-time fans, as well as a trailhead from which to explore for those who didn’t get a chance to discover the band almost 20 years ago. | Mike Rengel
