Torbjørn Brundtland and Svein Berge are Royksöpp. Contemplating which Scandinavian country they are from as I gazed at their clean flowing hair and black cladness, I consulted the contents of their website, but to no avail. I am guessing Norwegian, judging by the coifs and the attire. And now I will find the answer…
Ding! Ding! I am right. The headline at thesoundstation.org.uk reads “Understanding Norway: Royksopp chat about Fjords.” I bet they do.
Yeah, to say Royksöpp is the Norwegian version of Air is an insult to Air. To say that they sound like Air meets the worst moments in Depeche Mode’s history with Blixa Bargeld’s worst moments on the vox is just tragic for us all.
All I have to say is: If you don’t know English well enough to pen lyrics that have depth, sing in your own language (i.e., take notes from Dungen). And if you don’t have any moving thoughts, double entendres, or spitefully tongue-in cheek references, don’t sing about romance.
The simplistic electronica beats don’t merit an instrumental track, and the vocals don’t merit what little time was put into the beats.
Look for Royksöpp as the white elephant gift at this year’s winter holiday party.
