André Bratten - Gode

Pitchfork 74

Some of Norway's best producers seem to compensate for the region's chilly climate by gravitating toward sunny sounds, from Todd Terje's escapist lounge-house to Prins Thomas and Lindstrøm's psychedelic nu-disco. This can't be said for 28-year-old producer André Bratten. Although he records in the same Oslo studio as Terje, Thomas, and Lindstrøm, Bratten's new album Gode is insular and experimental, from conception to execution. Gode is Bratten's second proper full-length record, following 2013's inventively titled Be a Man You Ant and this past summer's Math Ilium Ion EP. It's also the most ambitious work of his career, tackling social and historical injustices of the past—namely the serf-like arrangement between farmers and landowners in early 20th-century Norway.

Now, if you're thinking that a double LP about the pre-industrialized Norwegian agrarian economy isn't going to get club kids on the floor, you're right. But this time around that's not Bratten's goal. He wants to tell a story with specific historical context within electronic music, which is an inherently difficult task: A synth stab, field recording, or a programmed drum pattern, however well-conceived, doesn't translate to "meditation on the darker days of Norway’s past, before the country discovered its oil wealth," as Bratten has said.

But even if you'd never guess the album's larger themes without reading about it, it's clear from the music that he's attempting something more evocative and wide-ranging. Bratten's production can recall everything from Aphex Twin's Selected Ambient Works to Andy Stott's murky experimentalism. He's cited Brian Eno as an influence, as well as 20th century classical musicians like Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, and Italian composer Giacinto Scelsi—known for creating music that plays off a single pitch that generates almost imperceptible microtonal oscillations. Bratten is resourceful at assembling whatever sounds or styles needed to fit the need of the moment: "Primordial Pit" uses mostly live instruments to create a sweeping, post-rock-like grandeur, while "Ins.", the album's shortest track, is a dissonant string arrangement that is as beautiful as it is unnerving.

For all this wandering, the most overtly pleasing songs on Gode are the ones that call back to Bratten's roots. "Space Between Left & Right" has a techno pitter-patter that a patient nightclub crowd could easily appreciate, while the album's title track evokes Boards of Canada at their prettiest. Another clear highlight is "Cascade of Events", which features the Norwegian pop singer Susanne Sundfør, who Bratten had previously remixed, her voice shrouded in an analog haze. Having a voice like Sundfør, who has had multiple number one albums in her home country, gives Bratten an anchor to chain his more experimental inclinations to; it'd be fascinating to hear Bratten paired with Sundfør for more than one track.

Given the intentions that Gode comes packed with, it's tempting to view its success in terms of that story. Does Gode accomplish Bratten's goal of creating a tribute to the farmers who never had the opportunity to make art because of their circumstances? Quite possibly! But like a museum plaque explaining abstract art to a layperson, background is only a tiny piece of a mostly visceral experience. What's easier to glean, and more universal, is that Bratten has made an expertly produced, emotionally honest record that defies genre and expectation. To understand that requires no homework.