Herman Dune - Giant (2006)

Swedish anti-folk band Herman Düne earned an international cult following that included the influential BBC radio personality John Peel, whose unfailing support earned the group enormous hipster cachet. Sibling singers/guitarists André and David-Ivar Herman Düne formed the group with drummer Omé. Channeling a continuum of influences spanning from Neil Young to Sonic Youth to Pavement, the trio issued a series of self-released cassettes and CD-Rs and even toured the U.S. and Europe before releasing its first "official" LP, Turn Off the Light, on the Prohibited label in mid-2000. That September, Peel extended an invitation to cut a BBC radio session, and was so impressed that he summoned the trio to his home for a live Christmas broadcast. Upon relocating to Paris, Herman Düne recorded 2001's They Go to the Woods for the noted Amerindie label Shrimper. Omé exited the lineup soon after, and with new drummer Néman Herman Dune, they resurfaced later that year with a second full-length, Switzerland Heritage. After a 2002 split release with U.S. emo outfit Cerberus Shoal, The Whys and the Hows of Herman Düne & Cerberus Shoal, the trio backed Canadian singer/songwriter Julie Doiron on a French tour. Two new LPs, the Track and Field release Mas Cambios and the Shrimper release Mash Concrete Metal Mushrooms, followed in 2003. After a series of self-released solo efforts, André and David-Ivar reconvened Herman Düne for 2005's Not on Top. Their Source Etc. label debut, Giant, hit stores a year later.

Melodies, poetry and rhythm overlap like summer nectar, and Herman Dune roll on like the most profound pop circus in the world.

They've always had that killer touch of course. Seven albums and twelve Peel sessions worth of underplayed, glimmering love songs have seen them make friends in the four corners of the globe, but there's something extra about this effort that makes me want to shout from the rooftops the fact that it was made in Wales. Specifically the North: that land of mystery and beguilement that continues to conjure the greatest and yet most overlooked in alternative pop.

Indeed, Giant seems to be the mysterious region's crowning glory, distilling years of melodic eccentricity pioneered by the likes of the Super Furries and Gorky's into one irresistible package, and though I'm not quite sure if the Dune family were aware of the area’s rich lo-fi heritage, it doesn't really matter. Giant breathes the same magic air.

Herman Dune have expanded like a pie in the oven under the guidance of a virtuoso cook. Their songs have gained the serenity of masters, the poise of greats, and all the easy humour that comes with it. A surreal conversational innovation opens Take Him Back To New York City… "And so the girls go 'Hey what’s going on, why don't you sing a song?' And I'm like, well here is a song I wrote for our new album. I wrote it when I missed New York in the autumn" and it's possibly the coolest thing I've ever heard, especially as what follows is a piece of lovelorn melancholia that shimmers in the moonlight like a thousand trickling tears.

The dialogue takes place between David Dune and The Woo-Woos, who are the brothers' little sister Lisa and her pals, and an absolute enthrallment of Giant is the incessant interaction of David and brother Andre's romantic poetry and The Woos' sweet, innocent and fantastic girl-group cooing.

There's also Doctor Lori Schonberg drafted in on bongos, bongos that add a distinct touch of tropicalia to the relaxedly teeming set, flavouring the melancholia with yet gentler rhythms, and The Jon Natchez bona fide Bourbon Horn section, giving a vintage jazz cool that propagates the nascent image of classy bar music for separated lovers.

For Giant also has an element of lovelorn adults staring into straight whiskies in neon and shade. It's Bogart and Sinatra via Pop poetry, inhabiting a quaint world of novelist and poet rather than celeb and apologist. Opener I Wish That I Could See You Soon sees David's lyricism laying typically bare with his lover half way across the globe, The Woo-Woos playfully bleeding his broken heart with nudging questions, and the light shines through the gloom like a million happy stars. It's Casablanca on Broadway.

What Giant is really all about though is saving hope from the fire and making it into humble, fragile monuments of beauty. Serenading friends all over the globe with pulsating heart and poignancy, it's what's round the corner when you're down-at-heel, and an epic consolation for all things far away. Though sad to see new friends leave, North Wales will be happy to bequeath it to the world.

- Neil Jones, musicomh.com