Lover Computer City
You Said We Were Heroes
One Without the Other One
Are We Still on for Tonight
Count Me Out
You Lost It
Breezy, catchy and Nordic-sounding, the Bermuda Triangle doesn't quite bring their vigorous starting pace with them to the finishing line.
Bermuda Triangle debuted with Mooger Fooger in 2003 as a trio consisting of Ariane Nielsen, Jan-Tore Disen and Nils Noa. Sophomore release 33rpm (2006) had no Noa on it, but additional assistance from Animal Alpha vocalist Agnete Kjølsrud and Seigmen's Alexander Møklebust. Their latest studio recording, Lover Computer City, sees them transform into a band – left from the original line-up is Disen on keyboards, accompanied by Thomas Jacobsen on drums, Anders Hunstad on bass, and Marita Sørli and Sverre Olav Rødseth on vocals.
The frequent crew rotation has left its mark on the music. Where Mooger Fooger was gloomy electronica and 33rpm dark electropop, Lover Computer City is pure pop – on the melancholic rather than the bubblegum side. The sound and production is chilly and distinctly Scandinavian, like a crossbreed of Röyksopp and a-ha.
Opening track You Said We Were Heroes is a classic pop tune with a clear verse and catchy chorus structure, and Can't Stop and Hole follow up in the same vein. It's a good start – danceable tunes with memorable melodies wrapped in a breezy production. One Without The Other One is a welcome down-tempo Depeche Mode-esque ballade. Then again, it also brings Venke Knutson to mind. And it turns a bit slippery from thereon.
On Are We Still On For Tonight, Bermuda Triangle briefly swap electro for Eurovision. The chorus is the main culprit, but this is also the time to pause with Rødseth's performance. Whereas Sørli's got a cool and steady voice with a lurking hoarseness that adds a bit of personality to the chilly synth-pop universe, Rødseth's strongly accented English and vibrato vocals occasionally tips the Bermuda Triangle into corny territories. It works well when he's in the background complementing Sørli, but if the Bermudas plan to keep rotating band members on forthcoming releases, it wouldn't be a bad idea to give Sørli complete control over the microphone.
Having been off to a good start, second half of Lover Computer City sounds as if Bermuda Triangle are running a bit short on ideas. Melodies border on repetition, and the many effects and details in rotation, elements that worked well in the beginning of the album, start sounding as if they're there to cover up the fact that songs are increasingly weaker. And that's when their voluminous electro pop becomes tiring, and one longs for a bit of variation.
Despite moments of catchiness, it's difficult to find anything really interesting or exceptional about Lover Computer City. Then again, some would claim that the ability to put people in a good mood as they go shopping, making them sway on the dance floor or sing along to the radio is pop music defined. This album is probably one for them.