Though seven albums into their career, we first became aware of Sweden’s Old Amica mere weeks ago after friends Fox Food Records released ‘Julia, Umea’, the first single from forthcoming album ‘Constellations’. Opening with a heavily autotuned vocal, the song is initially like a blurred image, the fade reducing overtime to reveal a flowering, bounteous landscape. While the first single had shades of Sigur Ros in its glacial post-rock, the second, ‘Collisions’, which we’re premiering today, derives more from the world of folk. Birds squawk above billowing words at the outset, before resplendent strums of guitar and a sacred, hymnal-like vocal push them out of view. Initially it defies gravity, floating easily in an ether of its own making, before organs and synths ascend it to a higher plain. The chorus is anthemic, reverent, grounding the song with its swaying back-and-forth. The hubbub of people, of land, finally re-enters the frame, as the song is allowed to end like a fire left to burn out – the final flame flickering and dying, long after the people who felt its warmth had dispersed.
Of the song, Old Amica say “Collisions is a song about the ungraspable meaninglessness of death. How someone is forever removed from one day to another. How we have to except it without ever understanding it.”