October 10, 2022 by A.S. Van Dorston

Sweden’s psych prog pioneers return after seven years with expanded scope and accessibility.

Dungen wasn’t the only great psych/stoner/retro band active in 2004. My favorite that year was Colour Haze’s self-titled seventh album. There were albums from The Hidden Hand, Witchcraft, Circle, The Sand Pebbles, C’mon, Hypnos 69, Amplifier, Ozric Tentacles, Ghost (Japanese band) and Comets On Fire. But Dungen’s third album Ta Det Lugnt was hipster approved, and the indie crowd fixated their jaded eyeballs on this uncompromising band that doesn’t bow to current trends and sings only in Swedish, at least for a minute, before moving on to more fashionable bands like Animal Collective. Long after the crowds moved on, Dungen continued to perform and evolve and put out great music. It’s now been seven years since their last official album, Allas sak (2015), not counting their soundtrack Häxan. A lot can happen in that amount of time, such as the Beatles recording their entire discography. The end of democracy. Or Dungen acolytes Tame Impala getting into synths and falling into the deep end of soft yacht rock. Gustav Ejstes spent time getting sober, while their virtuoso guitarist Reine Fiske kept busy with Elephant9, The Amazing, Fire! Orchestra and Motorpsycho.

Dungen’s eighth album Är För Mycket och Tusen Aldrig Nog (One is too many and a thousand is never enough) switches things up a bit from their typically complex yet accessibly melodic jazz-tinged psych prog. Much of the album is haunted by sounds from the late 90s, from trip hop/chillout ambience on “Möbler,” to drum ‘n’ bass breakbeats on “Var Har Du Varit?” The thwacking garage snares on “Nattens Sista Strimma Ljus” could come directly from Beck’s Odelay. Thankfully these anachronisms don’t sound as jarring as Kevin Parker’s total abandonment of guitars, but are masterfully integrated, for the most part, into their signature musical fabric nearly as seamlessly as Syd Arthur’s Apricity (2016). “Klockan Slår, Den Är Mycket Nu” has three distinct phases, from a metronome-driven soft piano to pastoral psych adorned with electronic samples, to a pleasant smooth yacht rock outro. The album closes with “Om Natten,” it’s melodies gradually evaporating into Vangelis-infused vapors.

All of the perceived lightness might lead one to mistakenly assume this is a slight album. But one doesn’t need a translation of the lyrics to feel the emotional weight of Estes’ inner journey. Another great Dungen album after a long wait, this is something to be savored and celebrated.