Bjorn Olsson

Few figures in progressive rock have matched the unreserved majesty of Swedish icon Bo Hansson. His forestial sonic charms, piloted by the Hammond organ, have set standards few have even endeavored to follow, even in his native Scandinavia. Luckily, a few brave souls have ventured this path worthily, among whom is Soundtrack of Our Lives founder Björn Olsson.

Olsson broke from that outfit just after the release of its 1998 sophomore effort Extended Revelation for the Psychic Weaklings of Western Civilization. He proved a year later that his true inspiration came not from the new psychedelia of TSOOL but from the musings put forth by Hansson 30 years earlier. Olsson’s solo debut Instrumentalmusik found melodies borrowed in a near note-for-note fashion from Hansson’s masterwork Lord of the Rings, as demonstrated on “Minnesstund,” which borrows its melody from Hansson’s “The Black Riders & Flight to the Ford.” On the whole, Instrumentalmusik comes off as a mellowed-out tribute to Hansson’s early works, both equally rich with cinematics and Hammond progressions. “Mellanspel” recalls Eno’s Apollo as much as Lord of the Rings, with its beatless, looping framework and ambient organ swirls.

We find Olsson stepping up the pace for his next endeavor, the shellfish tetralogy, featuring the 2001-released Shrimp, 2003’s Crayfish and Crab, and the forthcoming Lobster. With The Shrimp, Olsson clearly removes his sound from such blatant Hansson impersonations and opts for a more eclectic, original palette. Touches of Morricone reign widespread with deep, twangy guitar plucks, whistles and not to mention a cast of recruited horn and string players. “Tema IV” demonstrates Olsson’s ability to harness an uptempo format, something not fully exercised on Instrumentalmusik. “#22” continues in this fashion, providing heart-wrenching melodics and a rich orchestration uncommon with most rock types.

With The Crayfish, Olsson remains in spaghetti Western mode. The main difference is the lack of orchestration; Olsson employs a more barebones and homemade brand of recording. But whatever The Crayfish lacks in arrangement and orchestration, it often makes up for with great songwriting. The goosebumps-inducing “Juli” is the album’s opener. One might assume for the duration of this cinematic folk track that someone had just popped in The Good, the Bad & the Ugly. So far, The Crab has proven to be the sore thumb of the series. It’s a lo-fi guitar record that, while certainly pleasing, doesn’t carry the theme of the previous two in the series, as demonstrated with the album’s untitled closer.

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