Kings of Convenience – Declaration of Dependence (2009) [Virgin] // Grade: A-

Lest you think it impossible for Norwegian whisper-folk masters Kings of Convenience to get even more quiet (and sound even more like Simon & Garfunkel), here’s their latest: an album so hushed, it refuses to even suggest drums. The closest Erlend Oye and Eirik Glambaek Boe come to percussion are the brushed strings, wrists against guitar bodies, throaty sighs and miscellaneous pops and crackles that register courtesy of a super-hot mic—otherwise, it’s all delicate melody and Oye/Boe vocal tag-team capable of melting the most hardened cynics.

That it’s been five years since the duo actively worked on KoC songs hardly seems to matter; there’s an immediate lock-step on Declaration Of Dependence that begs the question of why they ever stopped at all. Dark overtures like “My Ship Isn’t Pretty” or the downright depressing “Scars On Land”—painful, terse; think the straining sadness of, like, “Scarborough Fair”—recall Quiet Is The New Loud with an entirely new, elemental sophistication. And the playful contrast of the beachy bossanova “Mrs. Cold” or the Gatsby garden party “Boat Behind” prove that life’s most basic dichotomy is alive and well—there’s stuff to celebrate, sure, but we’ve all been bone-crushingly depressed at least once.

And KoC manages to express that dichotomy, as well as a sense of true comraderie, without an ounce of impish awkwardness—the most shockingly perfect (and completely out of character) element of the album. Before, Erlend Oye asserting that he’d rather dance with you than talk with you reeked of a swagger reserved for gawky teenagers bragging about the girl they bagged at summer camp. You knew he’d totally talk to you, for hours, for days, and probably make you a special cup of chamomile, too. But now when he sings about his ship not being pretty or whispers, in the most gentle threat, “she’ll be gone soon, you can have me to yourself”, well god, it’s actually convincing. KoC may not have grown apart, but they’ve certainly grown up—and the dapper suit of adulthood fits them impossibly well.