With Acoustic Authority, Kings of Convenience Bestow ‘Peace or Love’

Two guys with acoustic guitars singing quietly — it’s not as easy as it looks. For the Norwegian acoustic duo Kings of Convenience, a lot of forethought went into the simplicity that shines through Peace or Love. Because it is sonically spacious, the album feels like a respite in an increasingly loud world. The comforting vocal blend, the lilting melodies, and concise songwriting are all wonderfully intact, carried over from their prior project a dozen years ago.

With impeccable rhythms and an eye for detail, the collection feels cozy and even encouraging at times. But upon listening closely to the lyrics, it’s clear that band members Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe are no strangers to conflict. Note the album title: It’s Peace or Love, without an “and” in sight.

Plus, there’s a rough imagery inherent in a title like “Rocky Trail,” the album’s sprightly lead single that finds the narrator admitting to missing the warning signs in a relationship and wishing for another chance.

“‘Rocky Trail’ represents a certain kind of groove that we do a lot, which is of course inspired by bossa nova,” says Øye, speaking on behalf of the duo for the first half of a Zoom interview with BGS. “It features Eirik’s trademark technique. He has a very specific technique of playing that allows him to be as quietly funky as he is. I think it is also quite layered, like onion shells. There are a lot of details in that song, so I think it rewards recurrent listening.”

For example, one can hear a propulsive rhythm in the verses, not unlike the one-foot-in-front-of-the-other mindset of a challenging hike, and then in the middle there’s a downward glissando that makes it feel like this relationship just tumbled back to square one. Or is that overanalyzing?

“Hmm, I wish I had thought of all that,” Øye says with a laugh. “Coincidence!”

While both musicians have a number of side projects, Kings of Convenience have always managed to come back around. Asked about finding common ground in the music they enjoy, Øye says, “Although we think of ourselves as very different, in reality being together all those years – although we didn’t always hang out together all the time – we influence each other a lot with all the music we’ve gone into.”

He continues, “Just as an example, when Eirik started coming around with these bossa nova ideas, that was already in the first year of us working more or less like Kings of Convenience in ’98. My first reaction was, ‘Oh noooo. What is this elevator music?’ But then, you know, that’s how you grow, by accepting something you have a preconceived notion of. I’m recently playing a lot with some Italian friends of mine and they are particularly inspired by Latin American music, in addition to Italian music. So, just following them, trying to pick up what they do, that’s how you get inspired – and I bring that into Kings of Convenience. Without knowing it, you inspire each other.”

When the topic turns to country music, Øye says he once read an interview with R.E.M.’s Peter Buck about playing country sessions and finding different ways of getting from G to F to C. “I remember thinking that’s interesting,” he says. “I do like this aspect of country music, basically trying to dig even more around an already very dug place, and not being afraid of that. OK, it’s not the first song in the world that goes F, C, G, but that’s not so important. I think that’s the one division in Kings of Convenience where we still disagree, that I’m more sympathetic to the country music side of making music, while Eirik is very into the idea that a chord progression should be unheard of.”

But will that ever get resolved?

“It doesn’t have to be resolved,” Øye concludes. “It’s part of our ongoing creative dynamic.”

That dynamic is much more complicated to capture in a studio than one might expect. Anything from the age of the guitar strings to the length of one’s fingernails can derail a session. That’s part of the reason Peace or Love was recorded over the span of five years and in five cities, almost always in person.

About to explain how they finally got the best version of “Rocky Trail” after many, many attempts, Glambek Bøe pops up in the Zoom call. After some cheerful greetings, Øye teases that “my main contribution to that song is the end part, with the guitar solo, and also my contribution is my incredible patience of recording the song so many times!”

Recreating the scene for comedic effect — “This is going to be the one, I promise you!!” — Øye graciously signs off, ushering Glambek Bøe into a conversation about the songwriting component of Peace or Love, specifically the encouraging messages nestled within some pretty sad songs.

“A lot of our songs are sad and they bring people in touch with their sorrow,” he says. “So I wanted to also give some uplifting words sometimes. I mean, once we’ve made people sad with our sad songs – when we have their attention – it’s a nice moment to give them a little pat on the back and a piece of advice. I like that type of songwriting, which is actually advice writing. You’re writing down advice for people. And for me, some artists have been giving me advice throughout my childhood and my young years, especially The The. I listened to him a lot as a teenager. He gives a lot of advice and I cherished that. It was important advice for me.”

One nugget of wisdom in “Love Is a Lonely Thing” is emblematic of the duo’s interplay. The lyric that suggests “It will seem a fair idea / If you make it their idea” was Øye’s idea, yet it’s a trick that Glambek Bøe admits to using in the band.

“It’s funny how it describes something I often do with him, because in our relationship, Erlend tends to disagree with whatever I bring to the table. He will automatically disagree, and then I will need to let time pass, so he will forget that it was my idea – and he will start thinking it was his idea. And basically any progress that we’ve done in the field of Kings of Convenience happened through that protest phase, the oblivion phase, and then then ‘thinking that it’s your idea’ phase. So, the lines were written by Erlend but they’re very descriptive in how I see our relationship in the band.”

The musician Feist joins “Love Is a Lonely Thing” and “Catholic Country” as a third voice, yet she also served as a cheerleader. “She is our favorite singer and we respect her very much as a songwriter and artist,” Glambek Bøe says. “She didn’t actually write any of these songs, but she was in the studio telling us these songs were great. And that was very important because at that time we were starting to lose hope that there was any quality in any of these things that had been recorded during five years.”

Asked about those underlying effects in “Rocky Trail,” Glambek Bøe listens with amusement to the theories, but ultimately agrees with Øye.

“We’re a lot more dumb than that,” he says with a laugh. “A lot of times when we do something great, it’s pure accident. But we’re able to recognize the art in our mistakes. I think that’s our main quality. We are not masters of our trade, but when we do say something in a beautiful way, we are capable of recognizing, ‘Wait, that was actually pretty good!’”

There’s an element of familiarity that comes into play, too, and it stretches back into the late ‘90s, when they connected as budding musicians in Bergen, Norway, and began to write songs together. Even now, there’s a mystery about why it still works, and Glambek Bøe says he is perfectly content with that.

“I don’t know exactly what his contribution is going to do to my playing, but something happens in that meeting, and none of us are in control of it,” he says. “Being together as songwriters, we stumble upon accidents more frequently, because I will write a verse and Erlend will write a second verse and he will misinterpret what my point was. But that misinterpretation brings out another quality in the song, and then I realize that makes it so much better.”


Photo Credits: Lead photo courtesy of Grandstand HQ; Inset photo by Salvo Alibrio

Small World: Music With Purpose By Magos Herrera, Miguel Zenón

Most of singer Magos Herrera’s new album, a collaboration with the string quartet Brooklyn Rider, draws on words and music written decades ago by Latin American poets and composers who spoke out against oppression, at the risk of their freedom and, in some cases, their lives. These are complemented by the haunting folk song “La Llarona,” already a staple of the Mexican canon but now globally known via its prominent place in the animated movie Coco.

Composer-saxophonist Miguel Zenón’s new work also teams him with a string ensemble, Chicago’s Spektral Quartet. The collection taps centuries of traditions, both musical and cultural, from his native Puerto Rico, to some extent to shine a light on the historic ignorance of many in the United States for its vibrant commonwealth. Folk melodies, evocations of religious festivals, and impressions of rural villages all mix in a celebration of that legacy.

But each is also very much of the moment, in the moment, tied to circumstances of the here and now, pointedly so. This is music with immediacy, with a purpose.

“I think these days we don’t have the luxury not to have a purpose,” says Herrera. The title of her album gives that purpose shape: Dreamers.

“It’s the spirit of our times, at least to me, after some time of confusion, showing how we got into these times, not only for what happens in America but in the world,” she says. “It was in invitation to ground in the reason why we make music and the purpose of our artistry and our music. And also because one of the first reasons I moved to New York 11 years ago was for all the opposite virtues of what we see — democracy, conversation, interaction, etc. The long story short is [the album] is really a response to what happens to the spirit of our times, beyond complaining.”

She’s made a career of exploring both her own and the larger Latin American heritage, primarily in a jazz context, but this album is very personal.

“I’m a Mexican in Trump America,” she says. “So this conversation of my situation as an immigrant, in every sense I thought it was a beautiful reaffirmation of my background to celebrate these incredibly huge masters of the word.” These influential poets and composers include Mexican poet Octavio Paz, Spanish martyr Frederico Garcia Lorca, Chilean “Nueva Canción” activist Violetta Parra, amd jailed and exiled Brazilians Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil and João Gilberto.

Herrera adds, “They lived in dark times, but changed the conversation, and keep inspiring us with what they wrote. It’s music of the incredible poets, some effected by the regimes in different ways, some were exiled, Lorca was murdered. So to honor them, celebrate their love for humanity, for democracy and the love for imagination of their world.”

Zenón’s album Yo Soy La Tradición is not as explicitly political, though he says it’s hard not to find that in the series of eight new compositions, his alto sax woven with the Spektral strings.

Zenón says that much of the mission of this album is to shed a light on the beleaguered island commonwealth of Puerto Rico – not just post-Maria, with help still slow to come, but with a mind on issues that have existed for decades, some coming from its perceived status as a “lesser” part of the U.S. But the learning process most essential to the album, he says, was his own.

“As a Puerto Rican and a Puerto Rican musician, I’m amazed by how little I know,” he says. “Always something to discover, something around the corner. And when you get into something, there’s something more after that. A lot of the ideas on the album I’ve been focused on for a while, but wanted to dig deeper for this project.”

For each piece in the set commissioned by Chicago’s Hyde Park Jazz Festival he took some aspect of Puerto Rican life — a folk tune, a religious ritual, a community celebration — and fashioned a vibrant fantasia. “Rosario” is inspired by “El Rosario Cantado,” a version of the Holy Rosary passed down through the generations traditionally played on folk instruments at funerals and other occasions. “Yumac” is inspired by a musical form from the town of Camuy (the title is that spelled backwards) with an unusual cadence and rhyming scheme. And with “Promesa” he portrays the annual celebration on the eve of the Jan. 6 saints’ day honoring the Three Kings who took gifts to Jesus in the manger.

“The Promesa, that tradition is so unique and so special, so amazing,” he says. “People make a promise to a specific deity, usually Catholic, like the Virgin. I wrote this piece for the Three Kings. In Puerto Rico and Latin America, the Three Kings’ day is bigger than Christmas and is celebrated on Jan. 6 every year. You get your gifts then.”

For these saints’ day celebrations, people honor promises made to the heavenly figures who they asked for help with health or financial troubles or other matters, usually with a big party the night before. El Día de Reyes, this day, is the most elaborate.

“It involves songs and an offering and the music is very specific, which spoke to me,” he says. “There are bands that all they do is play the Promesa events, they have the repertoire. All the songs are about the Kings.”

One song in particular caught his imagination, a seven-bar piece (unusual for a folk song, he notes) and expanded on that, as well as on another song, “Les Tres Marias,” both in diatonic scales, which he said gave him a lot of room to work harmonically, which he does in what proves a vibrant intersection of folk, jazz and modern classical approaches.

Miguel Zenón

And that is something else the two albums have in common. Each takes various aspects of those elements to create their own distinctive form of chamber music. Zenón’s is spare but lively in its evocativeness. The Herrera/Rider project has a larger sonic landscape, in part simply from featuring her vocals, but also through bringing in percussionists and other musicians to expand the range. For Herrera, like Zenón, the most profound revelations in the course of her project were personal, insights into her own heritage in the context of Latin American culture.

“It was more a reconnection to my origins, what I was listening to growing up,” she says.

But she also relished the chance to delve into everything from Brazilian bossa and tropicalia to flamenco to Mexican folk, all given exciting twists by Brooklyn Rider and a complement of arrangers including the quartet’s Colin Jacobson, Argentine musician Guillermo Klein and Venezuela-born Gonzalo Grau, who also plays percussion on the album. As well, she stepped up to the challenge of composing new music for three songs, including “Niña” and “Dreams” using words by Paz. In that she took inspiration and energy not just from older sounds, but also from new movements.

“There is a very interesting new wave of Argentine instrumental music,” she says. “It connects with the Brazilian instrumental scene. The song ‘Milonga Gris’ by Carlos Aguirre, a wordless song, that’s from that.”

The final two songs on the album make the connections very strongly, of musical styles and of the resonance of themes from the past with today. “La Llorona” tells of a woman’s ghost, searching for her lost children, ties now to the recent reports of families separated by U.S. immigration authorities. Pointedly, on the album it’s followed by the closing “Undio,” a 1973 João Gilberto bossa nova that had been part of the Brooklyn Rider repertoire before meeting Herrera. The song, in Jacobsen’s arrangement, starts with a ghostly cluster of strings before revealing a somber, yet hopeful, sense of uncertainty.

Johnny Gandelsman, Brooklyn Rider violinist and producer of Dreamers, also feels a connection to the material, having his origins in an authoritarian state, before moving with his family to Israel at 12 and then to the U.S. at 17. The material on Dreamers and the writers’ experiences behind it resonate with him deeply, even more in what he sees in the current political climate. “La Llorona” took on even greater personal meaning when he took his young daughter to daycare and heard another girl, who knew it through Coco, asking what the lyrics meant. He hopes that the new album presents a sense of optimism.

“In the world, America has been a beacon of hope for so many people who have struggled in their own countries,” he says. “I guess we just want to say that it’s still a place that can provide shelter and hope and opportunity for people, and we want to see the beauty in it.”


Color photo of Magos Herrera & Brooklyn Rider by Shervin Lainez
Black-and-white photo of Magos Herrera & Brooklyn Rider by Ryan Nava
Photo of Miguel Zenón by Jimmy Katz