REVIEW: Dag för Dag - Boo

Dag för Dag - Boo
MMM

Brother-sister duo Dag för Dag (Sarah and Jacob Snavely) are from America, but now call Sweden home. The cultural difference that results from such a major move isn’t too, too radical, but it’s certainly something that can affect a person’s perception of the world. Having lived in two hemispheres, the Snavelys undoubtedly see the world in a much different way than, say, someone who’s hardly traveled outside their home state. On their debut album, Boo, Dag för Dag translate their nomadic spirit and global vision into something that aims to be anthemic while maintaining its personal, intimate touch.

Boo finds the band mixing a post-punk angularity with a punk spirit and alt-country sincerity. They exist just outside the borders of lo-fi; nothing on the album shines with the polish of studio wax, but an ambition for anthemic results enriches the overall sound past its rough aesthetic. What’s more, there’s an alt-country quality to these songs for their jacket of reverb and their rough-around-the-edges character. It’s something that adds to the allure of songs like “Hands and Knees” and “Traffic Jam,” one that’s marked by an almost minimalistic construction and a desolate feeling. These are songs that are swathed in just the right amount of reverb, allowing them space – and, by extension, a richer sound – to grow. Dag för Dag’s tasteful use of reverb allows songs such as “Seven Stories” to sound increasingly heavy and more effective.

The essence of traveling across the world, logging miles and miles of new sights, sounds, and people, is something that's always been best documented by folk and country music. Neither of those two genres appear here, but the nomadic character that details the stories of such music is a key ingredient of Boo. It's not that Dag för Dag are singing explicitly about heartache, heartbreak, or trying to win over a man or a woman's affection, but inherent in their sound is the same sort of desolate, wash-the-wounds-in-reverb ethos.

First single “I Am the Assassin” is one of the album’s standout tracks with its impression of impending chaos, persistent rhythm, and air of mystery. “Boxed Up in Pine” features an instrumental break lead by a violin arrangement of piercing beauty. There are a few sour notes, but they sound less like mistakes and more like necessary details to capture the emotion fueling the performance. “Seven Stories” moves like an ominous storm cloud and recalls the twin guitar assault of Sleater-Kinney. The only song that doesn’t quite match the strength of the others is “Silence as the Verb” as Jacob’s vocal inflection sounds a bit goofy, less natural and more as though he’s trying on a voice.

Dag för Dag have seen the world. Before settling in their current home of Stockholm, they logged time in California, Wisconsin, Honolulu, and other stops along the way. By living in a variety of communities and cultures, the duo have learned quite a bit about the world, whether it was consciously or through osmosis. The songs of Boo don’t blatantly reflect the Snavelys’ eclectic background, but there’s a transcendent quality to their music that demonstrates their ability to convey a general sense of universality. This isn’t world music by any means, but Boo is a solid introductory statement for a band that’s at the beginning of a lifelong journey. If we're lucky, maybe we'll begin to see some of their experiences from these travels clearly reflected in the sound of their future releases.

Boo is out now on Ceremony Recordings.