Kings of Convenience—Declaration of Dependence
VVVV

On their third studio album, childhood friends Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe have done something no one thought possible: they got quieter. Five years after the success of their previous album, Riot on an Empty Street, Declaration of Dependence falls short of their stylistically comparable, advice-driven earlier efforts. However, this is only because of the sheer excellence of the last album. Declaration remains consistently strong and an easy, relaxing, enjoyable album.

There are no drums on this album, just a perfect balance of acoustic guitar, cello, violin, and most calming of all, the delightfully well-matched singing voices of Øye and Bøe. Their voices are underrated and often get lost behind the soft yet influential instruments.

Kings of Convenience set the mood early with opening track “24-25,” which makes even the softest, oft-compared Simon and Garfunkel song seem too noisy. Lead single “Mrs. Cold” is complex, offering a new favourite part upon each listen. The album gets stronger with “Boat Behind,” “Renegade,” and “Freedom and its Owner,” but then gets dryer towards the end. Still, these tracks are positive overall and add to the calm mood throughout the album.

Ultimately, Declaration will suit you if you’re the kind of person who thinks this world is more hectic than it needs to be, and that life often feels like a race to a never-ending finish line. Only when listened to in solace can one can hear the intricate guitar strums and the hard-to-replicate sound of fingers sliding on an acoustic.—Josh Staav

The Script—The Script
VVV

Known to me as “the band that opened for U2,” I was prepared to write about The Script as an Irish trio of ingenious talent and versatility. Sure, they’re talented, but versatile? Hell no!

In their self-titled debut album, singer Danny O’Donaghue, guitarist Mark Sheehan, and drummer Glen Power create a fusion of rock, soul, R&B, and hip hop. Incorporating funk-inspired percussion and semi-rapped vocals, The Script mirrors a style comparable to white soulsters Robin Thicke and Jason Mraz.

The album reeks of personal emotion, while using classic song construction and contemporary storytelling. But from love to break-ups, many of the songs share lyrical ground that’s too similar. O’Donaghue is either struggling to hold a relationship together (“Talk You Down,” “Before the Worst”) or struggling to accept that it is over (“Break Even,” “If You See Kay”). Although the music and lyrics are catchy—even borderline addictive—they lack diversity.

“The Man Who Can’t Be Moved” is the only highlight of the album—
following O’Donaghue on his mission to win back a former lover, it is captivating and powerful, and this would be a good song to crank on your Ipod as you lie in bed post-break-up.

The relatable lyrics and larger-than-life choruses make it inevitable that we’ll be hearing this album all over the radio and featured in mainstream television shows—it’s already made appearances on The Hills, Ghost Whisperer, and 90210. In its entirety, though, the album is nothing more than good. Next time around, The Script needs to deliver more substance to match their commercial success.—Jessica Tomlinson