BioJust when you feel you could catch a chill in the frozen climes of the current music scene, a saviour pads into view. Husky Rescue is here, carrying the revivifying (and intoxicating) liquor of musical invention and pure, untainted melodicism in their capacious sleigh. As clear as icewater, as dazzling as the Aurora Borealis, as jolting as a splash in the face from a Finnish lake; the music of Husky Rescue is more than capable of refreshing even the most jaded palate.
Helsinki's all-round musical magus Marko Nyberg and sensual vocalist Reeta-Leena Korhola lead the Husky Rescue charge. Other members include Miika Colliander on guitar, Ville Riippa on keyboards and Anssi Sopanen on drums. Touched by the chilly majesty of their homeland, and much more besides, the band describes their influences as being 'the magical moment' and mood in movies. David Lynch, Lars von Trier, Wim Wenders, Lukas Moodysson, Russ Meyer, Scandinavian architecture, Erik Satie, the airy lushness of French impressionism and Philip Glass, the sound of Arvo Part, warm and honest country music and a lot of other things in pop culture (such as) graphic design and photography.
Each Husky Rescue song is a self-contained mini-movie aiming for its own unique emotional impact. Take 'New Light Of Tomorrow', a slow burning Pink Floyd-ian epic, a hushed meditation on hope and doubt. Both intimate and immense, this is the stuff of heartbreak, a happy-sad reverie. 'Sweet Little Kitten' is well named. It's warm, delicate and adorable. Around the time of 'Pet Sounds' Brian Wilson declared his ambition to make music, which loves the listener back. This is something that Husky Rescue is also clearly capable of - this song curls around the listener in a warm, comforting embrace. As Marko puts it, "I'll try to create music that gives you feeling that somebody's holding you in their arms. And some contrast to that. There always has to be contrast."
And there is plenty of contrast in the 'Husky Rescue' world of sound. 'Gasoline Girl' begins as a laidback, bluesy daydream before breaking out into an expansive psychedelic landscape while 'Rainbow Flows' begins with a truly awesome cinematic flourish before settling into an understated lo-fi groove, revealing a frivolous, dizzy dimension of the band's sound - a Husky tongue lolling around weather-beaten chops, you might say. When asked to describe their work, Nyberg's metaphors are unusual but entirely appropriate: David Lynch meets the night-less night in Lapland, he suggests, or perhaps Bambi meets big bad wolf and they become friends. If you can read that and not be intrigued, you are an iceberg, my friend.