Studio:Yearbook 2

Until last year, the Swedish electronic duo Studio were one of those groups you weren’t even sure really existed. A “studio” remix that turned up somewhere online seemed to be, maybe, just an alternate recording of that tune, right? Nope. After releasing a compilation of their own material last year as Yearbook 1, though, the group was well-received critically but still remained a somewhat under-the-radar outfit. It turns out they have been working, though, and they’ve put out a collection (in chronological order) of the remixes they have done over the past year. Appropriately enough, it’s titled Yearbook 2. Things aren’t quite as complex, this year — or rather, the ambitions of Yearbook 1 aren’t as thrust forward (you’ll recognize some of the originals, and that the Studio versions retain distinctive portions of the vocals). And while you might glance at the seven-song tracklist and dismiss this as a slight, almost inconsequential album, you shouldn’t. It’s about as enjoyable as this kind of thing can get.

I’m not sure if there’s a difference between Studio’s “remakes” and their “versions”, but seems the latter half of the year they only worked on the latter. Either way some songs play like live-instrument reinterpretations and some like more traditional remixes (in Studio’s recognizable style). But either way, Yearbook 2 is almost as much a Studio album as last year’s collection of original cuts. Most of these pieces diverge substantially from the originals. Taking little more than the chord progressions and a distinctive melody, the band recreates these as they imagine them, keeping much of the pop sensibility but infusing their own particular new and original emphasis. It’s as if they listened to the songs a bunch, absorbed the material and then recorded something that’s sort-of-but-not-really related.

Studio uses a combination of live instruments and studio trickery to create their Balearic sound, and throughout Yearbook 2 the sound of quick-strummed acoustic guitars becomes very familiar. The song probably most heard will be the group’s re-working of Shout Out Louds’ “Impossible”. It’s been around since that group’s album came out in September of last year, but heard again here is as wonderful and subtle as the original. Sparkling pop with pristine production and, yes, it’s sunny and summery and romantic and optimistic (“It’s possible”, remember?). But that doesn’t matter.

While there’s a fair amount of riding a mid-tempo groove out past eight or nine minutes here, the beats are clean and the effects understated, so nothing feels extended past a natural conclusion. The opening track, a version of A Mountain of One’s “Brown Piano”, runs over 11 minutes, but you don’t want it to end. The understated confidence of the arrangement, whose various segments blend seamlessly, reminds us again that while it may be easier than ever for amateurs to get remixes heard with or without a band’s blessing, the professionals still have a few tricks up their electronic sleeves. In Studio’s case, it’s a masterclass in re-interpretation and re-branding.

And, yeah, there is such a thing as better than the original. In Studio’s hands, Rubies’ overstated nu-soul “Room Without a Key” becomes endless-layered guitar overdubs. The pairing of a more patent bass line with understate horseshoe-percussion gives the track a greater coherence, and also extends its life. Oh, and that new guitar melody they add gives it a whole new sparkle. That’s all Studio.

Elsewhere, the group takes on pretty disparate source material. Love Is All’s “Turn the Radio Off” is chopped up and casually building to a bit (seven minutes or so in) of studio genius, where fuzzy guitar chords dissolve into a trilling acoustic figure. Listen out for it. Studio likewise burnish the rough edges from the originally stomping, cracked pop of Kylie’s “2 Hearts”. The burlesque, bruising sexuality is mostly gone, here, and replaced with a more relaxed, shuffling beat and those guitars again. If you want to criticize studio you could argue that even despite the varied source material, the textures throughout Yearbook 2 share a close consistency. That this consistency is so well established as to be almost predictable. But that’s pure over-analysis: listen to the album through and tell me it’s not a completely seamless, consistently enjoyable experience.

It’s a perfect time to be listening to a nostalgic recap of some familiar, some unfamiliar tunes, each reflected though a prism into rich colours. Good thing about Yearbook 2 is, that feeling will last a lot longer than that one summer feeling.