Classic Objects

[Jenny Hval's] most straightforward record to the date, full of colourful and warm sounds – as well as one of her finest pop tunes.

‘Classic Objects’ walks the line between art and humanity, between nature and fabrication, between the real and the conceptual. It’s the audible equivalent of a painting affixed with human hair.

In its many guises, Classic Objects is that light, a profound statement from an artist bound by no traditions, and it is offered freely to those searching for all the questions they’ve yet to ask.

Classic Objects demonstrates Hval’s capacity for musical growth and lyrical introspection. It is her best work thus far.

They are more atmospheric and rhythmic than narrative and follow tangents into unexplored places. As both narrator and protagonist, Hval starts in a waking state and then lets the songs float away into unknown territory.

Much of the album feels like this – danceable songs with lyrics that urge thought about the state of the world and your own place within it. The most engaging moments are those where Hval lets herself escape into the pure fun of making jams. ... On a quarantine album, a little bit of escapism feels right. Hval continues to ponder philosophy in her writing, but throughout Classic Objects she brings light to her fears and memories too. [Mar 2022, p.48]

Classic Objects is an album of stories and meditations. Jenny Hval treats them like classic objects, ones that deserve care when handled. Yet these objects are far from fragile—bubbling synth pulses and rolling percussions evolve into climactic crescendos and back again.

There’s nothing here that’s particularly immediate, the likes of Cemetery of Splendour only gradually yielding their delights. Instead, Classic Objects is unceasingly intriguing.

On songs as different as the poignant protest song "Freedom" and the title track's winding musings on existence and creativity, it's both comforting and thrilling to hear Hval breathe life into the everyday so fully.

Classic Objects is direct and personal in a way that Hval’s work has rarely been, even as she evades confessional tropes. The album is soft and loose throughout, never spiking with dissonance. The pops and snaps of hands on drum heads give the songs a distinctly fleshy feel.

Classic Objects ought to be weighed down by its thematic density, by its specificity and insistence on revealing its own ropes and pulleys. It's to Hval's immense credit that it feels airborne instead, the work of an artist operating at the height of her craft.

The new album presents Hval at her most approachable, with upbeat tunes and consonant sounds, both acoustic and electronic.

‘Year of Love’ opens the record with a palm-muted guitar riff, unexpectedly, and from there ‘Classic Objects’ blossoms into classic Jenny Hval, ‘Cemetery of Splendour’ and ‘Jupiter’ forming its plain, heavenly, skyscraping highlights.

Under Hval's microscope, the seemingly straightforward is anything but. [Apr 2022, p.83]

Classic Objects is, on its face, Jenny Hval's most straightforward work: her songs flirt with conventional verse-chorus structure, her lyrics are clear nd direct, drawn from life. Closer listening, though, reveals Hval interrogating those experiences. [Apr 2022, p.29]

Perhaps above all else, Classic Objects is thoughtful or, really, defined by thought. The song structures are clever, the production is deeply layered, and the lyrics, which largely catalog Hval’s thoughts, are writerly and complex.