When a group titles a song "Dreampoppers (Tribute)," as Rumskib have on their self-titled debut for Darla Records, obvious criticisms of derivation and dilution can be done away with in short order. Clearly, the Danish duo is in debt to several members of the dreampop and shoegaze pantheon. These influences are wholly embraced, instead of attempting to mask them as original product, and by being so exuberantly cavalier regarding the degree of homage, the group is successful by not getting lost in these influences, as well
Tine Louis Koermand's singing is a mishmash of Elizabeth Fraser's soaring, self-stylized language (or maybe that's just Danish?), Bjork's mischievous coo'ing of the late Sugarcubes/early solo period, and the sonics-skimming romantic punk of My Bloody Valentine's Bilinda Butcher and Curve's Toni Halliday. There's even a little bit of the Sundays' Harriet Wheeler measured in on “Dreampoppers.” Guitarist Keith Canisius works squarely within equidistant sight of Robin Guthrie's atmospheric processed jangle-pop and Kevin Shields' floating guitar technique, albeit a less-expansive version that often finds itself colliding and uniting with the backing synths in the required blinding wall-of-noise segments that appear throughout the album.
It is in these moments that producer Jonas Munk, also known for his work on Morr Records and elsewhere as Manual, finds the room to demonstrate his capable production skills. Beyond contributing synthesizer and beat production to the album, Munk furthers the presence of Rumskib's predecessors in the mix of the album itself. He keeps Koermand's vocal levels at the same just-below-the-surface level as Shields did with Butcher on Loveless. At the same time, Munk is careful not to let the confidence of Koermand's performance become lost in the din, either. For the guitar arrangements, Canisius is allowed to build on wide, clean washes of backing synthesizer without fear of sounding either messy or overly simplistic. There are a few mis-steps in the placement of a handful of whitewashed noisescapes, but overall, this layering of guitar and synth is done with enough restraint so as not to seem like an unnatural laboratory creation, but with enough emphasis on their presence to complement the vocals and rhythmic elements. The underpinnings of synthesized bass and programmed drums act more like a few safety pins holding open an exotic, colorful butterfly specimen than a rigid, structural skeleton.
Rumskib's core duo takes the opportunity to run with delighted freedom above Munk's studio work. The energy on display is reassuring in that the project seems to be more than just another established producer's vanity project or a one-off paen to the gods of yesteryear. However, even the album artwork, which is contributed by another Morr artist, Syntaks, is reminiscent of the distorted blur of Kevin Shields' Jazzmaster that adorned Loveless. For Rumskib, the challenge will now be to demonstrate that they can create from a palette that moves beyond reverence for the past, as well as delineating Jonas Munk's role in the band as either de facto third member or enabling studio architect. The group is a welcome addition to the burgeoning Scandinavian shoegaze/dreampop scene, but how much they're willing to forge their own path instead of treading ground covered by others will determine their staying power.
-Ben Ramsey