The identity of Norway’s (Frank) Benjamin Finger remains an enigma and one that is on a par with the UK’s modern street artist Banksy. Such a mysterious identity is fitting of the music this Norwegian is peddling, as it is more about electronic atmospheric soundscapes than anything singer-songwriter by way of an acoustic guitar and unkempt facial hair (although…see above regarding the latter). What the listener gets, therefore, with Benjamin Finger’s latest album release ‘The Bet’ is a collage of sounds pertaining to various moods, such as the aptly named ‘Faintheartedness’ with its fleeting rhythm providing the woozy emotions by means of stammering vocalizations and simple piano that eventually ends up chopped and sliced and left flickering in a succession of electronic bleeps and whirrs.  Imagine if you will the characteristic tender openings of guitar strings being picked of an Explosions in the Sky composition and you are somewhere close to the shimmering and waiflike ‘Rosencrans Exit’. One can extract that ‘The Bet’ is concerned with humanities inabilities to safeguard world resources, given that the majority of songs presented here possess dreamlike qualities and therefore suggesting only one likely outcome if the downward spiral persists. ‘Bad-Luck Planet’, in particular, serves as one such precursor by sounding as if it has exited one world only to find itself wedged in a completely vacuous space as illustrated by the repetitive hum of electronica. Just as ‘Nasal Breakdown’ sounds equally grounded in its tracks, the space entered is far more pleasurable considering the beautiful ethereal vocals that surround it. ‘The Bet’ is a patchwork of ideas and emotions stitched together and striving to make sense of the world by means of various electronica and occasional guidance from elements of classical music that provides no further clues to the enigma that is Benjamin Finger only that he remains in a class of his own.

Scrolling down the track listing for Haraball’s ‘Half Tux’ provides nearly a dozen reasons for not wanting to leave the house in the morning. Whether this is due to a serious condition involving paranoia and delusional episodes, or that one is slightly more cantankerous than their fellow neighbour, both reasons appear plausible once hearing the various firecrackers igniting from this second album. A distorted opening groan of guitars arouse the senses before launching into a pummelling assault of post-punk and hardcore that is ‘The House That Builds Itself’. Following on from the guitar solo that brought the former song abruptly to its knees, the rolling tumble of ‘Crazy Tram’ is equally frenetic as its opening predecessor, only allowing for a tad more air to breeze between the blistering rhythm. ‘Manchild’ offers the first inkling of a composition not willing to be constrained by any particular pattern as it has a tendency to kneejerk occasionally in different directions that allows for a little restraint and usher in some grunge to the melee. Such a description can be applied to the intriguingly titled and mischievous tendencies of ‘Sack Of Onions’ and equally curious ‘Mallcop Dungeon’; the latter song building in a crescendo of guitars and pounding drumbeats that escalates into glimpses of searing feedback before regaining its previous momentum. Despite offering a full shot of adrenalin to the system by way of ‘Half Tux’, underneath the raging emotions and often chaotic noise there exist enough subtleties to suggest that Haraball is steadily evolving into a force to be reckoned with.

The name Charlotte Qvale has been making great strides after recognition from several Norwegian radio stations that saw Qvale’s hit song ‘The Fire’ a longstanding feature when it came to radio playlists. Fast forward to the present and Charlotte Qvale is now ready for her full-length debut entrance with ‘Fire Dance With Me’. The impact of this first offering is immediate with vigorous backing beats and Qvale’s calm vocal detailing the differences that finally proved too much for one particular relationship during ‘The Beginning Of The End’. Comparisons will no doubt feature Florence + the Machine considering the influence of indie, folk and dance music running throughout, especially upon hearing the lovely rising arc of ‘Love You Out Loud’ and breezy ‘Kiss The Girls’. There is a slight quirky edge to the rather engaging ‘City Lights’ that brings together a bristling rhythm full of acoustic guitar and stabs of brass instrumentation and reminiscent of Susanne Vega and a closer to home, Ephemera. While such associations are to be welcomed considering the undoubtable talent and confidence evident here, the next outing for Charlotte Qvale makes for an interesting prospect because it will be one that requires a slight deviation due to an overall feeling of familiarity with ‘Fire Dance With Me’.

When confronted with song titles such as ‘But The Regrets Are Killing Me’, the likelihood of a joyful conclusion to American Football’s eponymously titled reissue is highly unlikely. Whether such regrets permeate the thoughts of the now ex-band members regarding their decision to call time on this particular musical venture only they will know. What is clear, however, is that the decision to dust down and re-release ‘American Football’ as a limited edition set to 2000 copies in various formats was the right decision considering the honesty of the songs on offer, but also the dexterity of the musicianship that conjures up various intriguing and complex melodies throughout. Most notably, however, is the iconic status this record still holds considering the various layers interwoven into the songs that can be heard to varying degrees in a host of bands currently peddling the emo label, but also for the use of brass instrumentation and sometimes jazz references that still set this album head and shoulders above. Look no further than the accessible sounding yet full of intricate details of ‘Never Meant’, to the fragility of ‘The Summer Ends’, played out effectively with a singular horn and bringing to mind The Mutton Birds ‘The Falls’, to understand why this album is an important landmark and one that is still relevant today.

Ending up as last year’s singing sensation after a gruelling number of weeks on NRK’s Stjernekamp contest, Silya resurfaces with the shrewdly titled ‘Unanchored’. Despite the triumphant success on national television, Silya remains close to her roots by continuing her musical association with The Sailors, as well as her personal taste in music dating anywhere between the 40s to the 70s where elements of rock, pop, jazz, big band and ska have a habit of connecting as well as operating on their own terms. Opening up in some style with trademark vocal and a singular electric guitar for company is the confessionary tug-of-war ‘Change My Mind’ with its one line homage to The Clash but also respect for the two cities in her life which, unfortunately, have presented something of a dilemma as far as future directions go. With the album being recorded in Degraw Sound in Brooklyn, the decision to commit to a live recording certainly pays dividends as the retro feel of the aforementioned ‘Change My Mind’ comes complete with added hiss behind its exterior, but more importantly the raw honesty of Silya’s vocal is captured and highlighted with the ballad ‘Become My Dream’ and gutsy rocker ‘Trailblazer’. Treading the past also extends to a reworked version of a former song ‘No Use In Runnin’, only this time the slick dance beats are replaced with a rock – ska version that is punctuated throughout with some wonderful brass and given a real boot in its rear with an immense vocal during its climax. Rather than being resigned to a mere background effect, the use of brass instrumentation throughout is equally essential to the compositions on offer, as the various horns breathe added personality to the narratives being expressed and evidenced by ‘Loverman Stick Up’ and the rock ‘n’ roll, jump blues of the quite stupendous ‘Chick Habit’. The noirish feel of ‘When Your Girlfriend Sleeps’ finds Silya in her element under the dim lights of a swanky NYC supper club, before swinging home on a finale with recent single ‘Sucka’ that contains a rich ska influence that eventually amalgamates with a big band sound and Silya singing from the rooftops. Looks like Ol’ golden tonsils is back and here to stay this time, as ‘Unanchored’ is the perfect blend of everything that is Silya and a showcase for the wonderful talent that has been striving to make its mark all these years.

Coming up trumps once more, Holy Roar Records play their winning hand with relative newcomers Up River. Holding a sound that is best described as post-hardcore with smatterings of melodic indie rock (it’s in the guitars) and possessing a front figure who passes a slight resemblance to Ian Curtis judging by the engaging video accompanying lead track ‘Confide’, leaving all bets postponed as to one likely source of inspiration being Joy Division, Up River is likely to please fans of More Than Life and Touché Amore as they are of those in tune with various melancholic and equally passionate indie bands. Comparisons aside, Up River deliver a debut album that is concise in its decisions as the impact of their creativity is immediate as demonstrated by the desolate-sounding chords slowly prising open the contents of first song, ‘Youth’. The robust assault of ‘Withdrawal’ follows with equal fervour before chiming itself out on a singular guitar and falling into the net of ‘Growing Pains’ that is portrayed compellingly with a vocal that is fatigued and fighting for its survival. ‘Cipher’ and its successor ‘The Weight’ provide two short, sharp jabs to the senses of raw emotion with guitars and drums rumbling and colliding. The previously mentioned ‘Confide’ allows for a brief respite, tilting back and forth on its heels at various intervals as if steadying itself before the next push which reveals further variation with the instrumental ‘Respite’. On this evidence, Up River will bypass with ease any incoming tides such is the authority and depth of debut album ‘Undertow’.