Nerissa Schwarz: New Eyes for Laika
Nerissa Schwarz

In refusing to be slotted into any one genre category, be it prog, ambient, classical, or rock, Nerissa Schwarz's sophomore solo album becomes an all the more entrancing proposition. It's a perfectly balanced recording on many counts: its thirty-seven-minute duration is neither too short nor long; its meticulously designed arrangements are neither too sparse nor overloaded; and its nine instrumentals boldly explore imaginative directions yet not so much that clarity of form and concept is lost. There's nothing slapdash about the material, yet it never feels overworked either. New Eyes for Laika is, in other words, accomplished on composing, arranging, and performing grounds.

That it is so doesn't surprise. Though the album is only her second solo release, Schwarz brings years of experience to the project. Her band Frequency Drift has eight albums to its name and ample tour dates too, and her debut release Playgrounds Lost made a lasting impression upon its release in 2016. The nine pieces on the new set might be thought of as musical short stories or as mini-soundtracks to imaginary films. In keeping with the material's tone, the character of those projects would be macabre and gothic. Stated otherwise, Schwarz's material more closely aligns itself to the sensibility associated with folk-horror films such as Midsommar and The Witch. Like them, the enigmatic realm evoked by the album's set-pieces feels both contemporary and from long ago.

As is often the case for an instrumental recording of its type, Schwarz plays all of the instruments, in this case electric harp, keyboards, and synthesizers, though Andreas Hack does contribute keyboards too. She apparently used the theme of self-aware artificial intelligence as a creative impetus, and consistent with that track titles such as “Memories of Being Made,” “Raised Like a Daughter,” and “Making Plans For Departure” hint at a narrative of sorts. But as with any instrumental collection, New Eyes for Laika can just as satisfactorily be experienced at the immediate level without any concern for extra-musical meanings.

A palpable sense of foreboding informs the album from the start when “Making Plans in the Dark” introduces it with eerie electric harp sonorities, brooding piano, and percolating synthesizer melodies. That tone carries over into “On Blackout Avenue” when harpsichord and cello timbres haunt the piano theme like spectral presences. A rather classical formality lends “Memories of Being Made” a stateliness that grows ever stronger when a lilting harp pattern's joined by a flute-like mellotron figure. The penultimate “Europa Waiting” could even sneak into the second side of Bowie's Low without anyone batting an eye. As unsettling as much of the album is, it also occasionally ventures into calmer territory, the lovely, lullaby-like title track one example.

May 2022