Gwenno's third album, Tresor, is a slight change of pace, scaling back the arrangements and focusing her songwriting to a fine point. Her first two albums, also made, as this was, with longtime collaborator Rhys Edwards, are gossamer-light, dream-like, and expansive to the point where the songs feel like they are filled with helium -- only replace the helium with joy. This time around, there's a dark cloud partially eclipsing the brightness as Gwenno sings with real emotion about the struggles of motherhood and its place in ...
Read More
Gwenno's third album, Tresor, is a slight change of pace, scaling back the arrangements and focusing her songwriting to a fine point. Her first two albums, also made, as this was, with longtime collaborator Rhys Edwards, are gossamer-light, dream-like, and expansive to the point where the songs feel like they are filled with helium -- only replace the helium with joy. This time around, there's a dark cloud partially eclipsing the brightness as Gwenno sings with real emotion about the struggles of motherhood and its place in the larger culture. One doesn't need to be fluent in Welsh or Cornish to be able to understand the depths of the feelings, though the actual words may be tricky to ingest. There are also a few songs where she descends from the lofty heights she usually inhabits to deliver vocals that sound forceful and not a little angry, especially on "NYCAW," whose full title can be translated as "Wales is not for sale." This more direct vocal approach plus the quiet, clipped nature of the drums, the ghostly electronic haze that floats around in the background, and the unhurried tempos make Tresor a more human-sized album that takes a little sitting with to fully appreciate. Unlike Le Kov, which was a shimmering delight, or her debut, Y Dydd Olaf, a radiant listening experience, it's much more muted and contemplative -- neither of which are bad things as long as the album has enough melody, mystery, and/or beauty to keep things interesting. It doesn't falter on any of those counts, and most of the tracks -- like the enchanting opener "An Stevel Nowydh" or "Kan Me," which sounds like a relaxed collision between Neu! and Boards of Canada at their most pastoral -- tick off all three boxes at once. Those that home in on one particular element, like the puzzle-box electronic instrumental "Keltek" or the almost painfully pretty "Anima," work just as well. Along with the songs that exist (semi-)happily within the framework she has previously established, there are a couple left turns. In addition to the already-mentioned "NYCAW," "Ardamm" is something of an epic, beginning with spectral found sounds, then blooming into a repetitive, driving song that pairs Gwenno's insistent vocals with skittering drums and a chunky bass guitar rumble. Overall, the album works on every possible level, delivering emotionally powerful vocals and melodies, songs that haunt, and production that wrings every drop of pleasure out of the subtle arrangements. After her first two albums, it was clear that Gwenno had reached her stride early as a solo artist; now with Tresor, she's shifted away from that bright, shiny formula and come up with an album that goes one step further to cementing her in the experimental pop firmament. ~ Tim Sendra, Rovi
Read Less
