Molnbär av John: "I Wish I Could Draw Her Nose (1)"

Tona Serenad’s pursuit of fatigued vinyl hots up with this picture disc from Molnbär an John. Molnbär’s an impostor, though—he’s actually label boss John Henriksson, the string-puller who’s shaped the Serenad sound since the Musette debut in April. If you’ve already lived with that one, you might think the Tona aesthetic is a finite one. But, as this infomercial proves, the gang can now cultivate the Tona sound and fling it about by the bucketload, creating a compressed warble like a thousand old Sundays for the A-side of I Wish I Could Draw Her Nose. And when I say Sundays, I’m talking Sundays long before Sunday School; long before re-runs of Land of the Giants (1968) and hours spent frustrated in parks.

On the surface, there’s not that much in it between “Nose” and the Datum LP—soft-as-a-cardigan stylus fizzle wiped across a pre-war lullaby—but thirty seconds in and you’re not quite so comfy. This one isn’t fit for the delicate relatives, and quickly drifts into the headachey abandon of waking up with a gramophone in a fishing hut, slats rattling thanks to last night’s mushrooms and lighter gas sucked from the flotsam. The vocals come telegrammed in from a similarly stricken outstation, the line’s thick with wind/hungry seagulls and the diva’s bray of “I wish I could draw her nose / Maybe I need classes” touches your guilt nerve for just long enough. Then garbled spools flicker to life and eat up a game show jingle. Quite simply, this is six minutes of spectacular Swedish reverie that makes for one fuck of a time-slip, and maps the sonic equivalent of catching food poisoning off a luxury roast dinner. Who knows what treasures await on side B. I’ve not yet had the urge to flip it.