- The Swedish experimentalist ditches the organ for orchestral instruments and a vintage synth, and makes two of her most overwhelming compositions yet.
- In 2022, the idea of a superstar organist sounds a little far fetched. But, on avant-garde favorites Claire Rousay and More Eaze's hyperpop album Never Stop Texting Me, they rap, "We're on that Kali Malone shit," in reference to their (relative) success selling records on Bandcamp Friday. (The two artists went so far as to utter the America-born, Sweden-based musician's name in a borderline-reverential tone during our Stereogum interview earlier this year.) From that, you might think she was as seasoned an artist as a minimalist favorite like Philip Glass or Laurie Spiegel. Though her discography only contains three proper releases to date, Malone doesn't seem to be too far away from attaining the status of a musician of that caliber.
This is a unique standing for a fairly young neoclassical keyboardist to hold. Her latest LP, Living Torch, branches into new terrain, showcasing a newfound sense of composition and dexterity. The record was recorded during her residency at the storied, Pierre Schaeffer-founded Paris studio GRM, and explores both increasingly baroque and technological realms. The album centers on trombone played by Mats Äleklint, bass clarinet from Isak Hedjärn and sounds that Malone generated on an ARP 2500 modular synthesizer and a boxy Boite à Bourdons. She pieced together individual recordings from Äleklint and Hedjärn (whose clarinet parts were actually recorded at another hallowed studio, EMS in Stockholm), warping their separate notes into seamless yet otherworldly oceans of noise. The end result takes her usually grainy, drone-centric work to dizzy new heights.
Malone's 2019 record, the hour-and-46-minute-long The Sacrificial Code, leaned into its sprawling arrangements. Living Torch is nearly as titanic, though on paper its two-part, 33-minute runtime looks significantly more digestible. The first movement, "Living Torch I," is subdued, carried by organic tones that undulate around each other. Malone slowly incorporates synthetic, Gregorian Chant-like electronic textures, creating an uncanny and unsettling atmosphere. With these sounds in mind, looking at the list of gear used to bring Living Torch to life can be baffling. The names of the instruments are generally familiar, but the noises Malone contorted them into are nocturnal and dreary, sometimes almost alien.
"Living Torch II" is grittier, underlining its trebly woodwind intonations with distorted bass notes. After things simmer for roughly four minutes, Malone floats in horn-like sounds with brassy timbres that evoke the scores to ‘70s movies like Solaris or A Clockwork Orange. It's a gripping and dynamic composition, haphazardly alternating between enormous highs and barely-perceptible lows.
After spending time with Malone's new endeavor—a far easier task than listening all the way through records like The Sacrificial Code—these heady, and occasionally overwhelming, elements become as alluring as they are challenging. Malone takes naturally to this new music style of composition, and Living Torch leaves me hoping that Malone will continue to pull on this thread—a thread that feels more contemporary than archaic. Where her past work could sound like it was written for a grandiose 18th-century opera house, Living Torch is closer to the long-lost sonic component of a modern art installation, endless in its possibilities and imagination.
Tracklist01. Living Torch I
02. Living Torch II