January 1st, Berlin, Volksbühne. The audience in the sold out hall of this renowned theater is holding its breath, captivated by the spectacle before them. Hundreds seem to glimmer on stage, capturing the whole room in an eternal moment . The strange energy between the siblings, their mysterious appearance, the tension, the exalted serenity: it's all tangible. The idiosyncratic character of the show, the "total artwork" magnatizes the audience in an immersive intimacy even in this crowded hall. Whether on last years sold out debut tour, the summer festivals, their first shows in Stockholm, London or Paris, the Iceland Airwaves or recently at the dutch Eurosonic Festival, there's the same response everywhere: enthralled faces, fearing that any movement could destroy everything. What just happened?
And here is this album as a possible answer. The sketch of a position, a fleeting shape that can lean towards cold Raster Noton-like aesthetics as well as the intimate songwriting which holds the darkness of Low. It lingers with you, gleaming and euphoric. Offish electronic sounds, fragile remains of breathing and hints of thoughts that sound like underwater music establish a gentle connection to the immediacy of their sensual voice. A disciplined and artful fabric is woven only to be filled with kisses, tears and laughter, exuberance, disenchantment, desperation- life itself. The music of Hundreds grows with every encounter, with every collision and contradiction. It beathes in all the free spaces that suddenly appear. It is as ungraspable as the persons behind it while still offering to embrace everyone.