NIKI AND THE DOVE
Just as we identify black metal with Oslo, techno with Detroit, and West African folk with Bamako, cooler-than-thou Stockholm is on its way towards becoming synonymous with nimble, well-crafted pop. Perhaps following the lead of ‘70s disco gods ABBA, Stockholmers have, over the years, consistently delivered infectious, clever pop music. Since the ‘90s, we’ve been indebted to Stockholm super-producers like Max Martin, RedOne, and Bloodshy & Avant, and lately performers like Robyn, the Knife, and Lykke Li.
Göteborg, to the southwest, boasts a spry, diverse music scene, and has produced gothic and death metal acts, as well as, in more recent years, Pitchfork-pleasing bands like Air France, jj, and the Tough Alliance. It’s only fitting, then, that the next buzz band to come out of Sweden would be Niki and the Dove, a nouveau-goth-pop duo whose style fits squarely between the glossy pop associated with Stockholm and the artsy, inventive vibe of Göteborg. Made up of Malin Dahlström (lead vocals, keyboards, programming) and Gustaf Karlöf (background vocals, keyboards, programming), Niki and the Dove make pop music for smart people.
While Dahlström and Karlöf, who met in Göteborg and are now based in Stockholm, admit it can be difficult to balance experimental, non-conventional pop like theirs, they tend to avoid thinking along those terms. “We love pop music and we aim to get a kick out of it ourselves,” they say. That much is clear on “DJ, Ease My Mind,” a single released last year as part of London-based record label Moshi Moshi’s taste-making Singles Club. The song, whose strong, catchy melody could just as easily sit atop a big-budget record by Lady Gaga or Katy Perry, sees Dahlström delivering what sounds like a call-to-arms over a booming, rhythmic disco beat. (“We have the heritage of ABBA,” she explains.)
Dahlström’s witchy, thunderous voice tramples the dark, warbly synths on “DJ, Ease My Mind” and on the three other songs she and Karlöf have released to date. Her vocals fill the spaces between instruments, but also play with them breathily, sounding at times more like a synthesizer than a human voice. Beneath those layers, dark, eerie electronic drums move the songs forward, and are vaguely tribal, recalling Euro-folk drum patterns. But dark and eerie are less literal here than on other nouveau-goth projects; it’s goth with pop ambitions, if such a paradox can exist.
Before forming Niki and the Dove with Karlöf, Dahlström dabbled in electronic music and performance art. On her last venture, a solo project called disdishdance, she manipulated programmed beats and processed vocals, ultimately looping her voice as an instrument. Dahlström also orchestrated public performances with a group of dancers whom she continues to consider muses. “In our research we were inspired by Lynch, female half-goddesses, bubbles, and trancey moves,” she says.
She and Karlöf expect to bring those sorts of otherworldly influences to their forthcoming record, slated for a release sometime this fall. Rather fittingly, Dahlström says her references for the songs that will make up their debut include the forest, animals, drums, and the dancers with whom she works. Karlöf, on the other hand, cites Russian pianist and composer Sergei Prokofiev, widely celebrated for his modernist approach to ballet, as a reference. It seems reasonable, then, for the two to promise an album full of “groundbreaking, stunning, outstanding, breathtaking, remarkably intense, and majestic melodies.”
And so we wait.
