Up close and personal

Isn’t it funny? When you have been waiting for something to happen for a rather long time, it somehow feels like you’re the only one that keeps looking, checking, wondering. Like for new music from Múm. Every now and then, I would play one of their strange little songs in a quiet moment at the bar and wonder what might be keeping them from coming up with new ones.

It didn’t feel like their playfully peculiar world could run out of ideas. More than a decade after their last album we now know that it didn’t. I’m glad I didn’t wait in vain.

Twelve years are a long time. Things change. People change. We don’t just look different, we are different. But only to a certain extent. Some basic aspects of character will not necessarily change that much. A person that has always been very rational will probably not grow up to say goodbye to logic and reason.

What is it that we keep? Our ways of looking at life, people, the world? The way we express ourselves? Imagine a person that is incredibly cute in their 20s. Would a similar level of cuteness be just as endearing at 40? At 50? The likelihood will be decreasing with every year, and whoever might have found that cuteness annoying to begin with will find it dreadful a decade later.

If you know the music of Múm you will know where this is heading. It’s the question whether the things you liked about them between 1999 and 2013 are still as enjoyable in 2025. Or, for some, whether the things that kept you from enjoying their music back then have grown out of their work in the meantime, making it more accessible or even enjoyable.

Two spoilers, one for each of those two groups. One: if you liked their work before (“Dusk Log” for example), “History Of Silence” will make you smile. If you have a relatively low “tolerance for age regression as a creative strategy” as Mark Richardson phrased it for Pitchfork, you will probably not convert to Múm fandom.

To the credit of the band though: if there is any movement on either side, it will be among the second group of people. What might win over new listeners? Mostly the more refined production, a richer sound. An increased approachability maybe, as much as this may sound strange for a band that is decidedly emotional in what they do and how they do it. There is a little more structure, too, most tracks feel more like songs than some of their earlier work, they have refined their unique approach to what probably is a modern folk ballad.

There are moments when it’s understandable that some folks take a step back from what they hear. Not everyone will be comfortable with how close and personal the vocals get. “Avignon” for example. The vocals are so very far in the foreground, so very much near your ears that it might be a little too much for some. The lyrics seem very personal too – easier felt than understood.

That’s a general recommendation on how to enjoy Múm’s work anyway. Getting all too cerebral about it is not a very sensible approach. Don’t think too much about why “Our Love Is Distorting”, just take it in as an aural excursion, enjoy listening to a song that is barely keeping things together at first, like it lost a few parts, only to find them half way into the track, ah, there’s the symphonic pieces, look I’ve found my rhythm.

It’s okay to float in the foggily romantic melancholy of “A Dry Heart Needs No Winding”, it’s perfectly fine to let “Miss You Dance” take you a little deeper into the words chosen, with this palindromic opening line “devil I lived”, and it’s even alright if one or the other song floats by, it might just reach a little deeper next time.

Instrumentally, “History Of Silence” is a true pleasure, and that’s where the twelve years have worked well for Múm. Sometimes I feel this might even be a little burden. When the lyrics are more breathed than sung, when they are approaching me with intent and closeness, this thought surfaces, wondering what that track would be like if it had been pursued as an instrumental.

But of course that wouldn’t be very Múm-like. There is plenty of space between the words though. So don’t just look at it from a distance. It’s a much nicer album if you (let it) get a little closer.

Release for review:
MÚM – HISTORY OF SILENCE – MORR MUSIC – MM206

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