Even the most unpredictable artists tangle with the weight of expectation. Stian Westerhus is no exception: having cut his teeth in experimental guitar composition, Westerhus’ ventures have since plumbed more eclectic depths. This broadened scope leaves commentators impotent; scrabbling to cram something amorphous and multi-faceted back in that neat “experimental guitar” box. But Redundance is the latest in a line of releases which affirm Westerhus as someone who can’t really be described in simple terms.
It this all makes Redundance sound like it’s going to be some kind of dadaist, Trout Mask-esque mess of errant ideas, it’s not. Simple until it’s subjected to analysis, Redundance is an album as easy to enjoy as it can be difficult to parse. In short, it volleys back any interest you give, and benefits rigorous attention as generously as casual listening.
First-half track ‘Verona’ is as freely enjoyable and funky as something Bombay Bicycle Club or Hot Chip would release—but with a fire to its squelchy instrumentation neither band would dare to attempt. It also finds Westerhus channelling David Byrne with some charmingly eccentric vocals. It embodies the appealing swagger of Redundance; how every minute of its runtime is elevated by a confident inflection. Westerhus is living proof that not everyone can pull this shit off—and he carries offbeat choices on his own singular and irresitable appeal.
Tracks on Redundance regularly sprawl across seven or eight minutes—another manifestation of Westerhus’ confidence—but never feel over-extended, or even long. Title track ‘Redundance’ is as good an example of this as any. It has a lolling, soporific power; the heaviness and inexorable downward trajectory of sleep paralysis.
Across the board, Westerhus’ ideas are clearly established, and given the exact amount of time they need to develop. If anything, this album could have benefitted from a patience-tester; some kind of massive slog to emphasise the muscularity of its soundscaping and roll deeper into its own trance. But that’s probably just the masochist in me talking. As is, Redundance offers something for everyone—whether they be headphone-set introspectives or the most casual of listeners. For something no one can really describe, Redundance sure has some broad appeal.
Redundance is available for purchase here.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe