There’s a trenchant, pulsing necessity to the three tracks that comprise Under Huden, a new EP from Henrik Meierkord. The music’s urgency is belied by its seeming quietude, the key word being “seeming.” The tracks are quiet by appearance, and by appearance only, for each is dense in its own way. Each is layered with sawed strings, blurs of overtones, stray trace elements. (What, for example, is that wonderful warble from 6:18 to 6:20 in the EP’s closing piece, “Under Huden III”?) Density is, arguably, simply another form of volume, not so much loud volume as heft volume, the sheer substance of what is occurring gathers in the imagination.
Also particularly striking about Under Huden is the sense of place. This may or may not have been recorded live, but the end result has a spatial quality to it, offering up a mental picture of a room, dimly lit, light cutting through the blinds, dust motes in the air, feet firmly placed on old planks, the cold winter just outside.