It was the end of 2013 and Jannis Noya Makrigiannis, the frontman and
principal persona behind Choir of Young Believers, was worn out. He'd
been touring the band's last record-the haunting Rhine Gold, for the
better part of a year and, when it was over, he felt confused, adrift and
didn't feel like playing music. He was doubting the future of the band.
The way he coped was to detach. He postponed writing in favor of
traveling, deciding that instead of diving back into the creation of
another record, he would allow himself to move in whatever direction
he desired. His impulses guided his decisions; he wasn't feeling very
inspired by the guitar or the piano, so he started to fiddle around with
a small pocket sampler his mother got him for Christmas, using it to
make small soundscapes, beats and collages.
Those early experiments became the building blocks for Grasque,
from the warped, weird choral vocals that open "Serious Lover" to
breezey, breathy R&B of "Jeg Ser Dig," on which he sounds like a
Scandinavian Sade. The record pulls in a host of unlikely influences:
smoky jazz on the noirish "The Whirlpool Enigma" twinkling pop on
"Gamma Moth" and sun-bathed soul on "Cloud Nine." It's not so much
a reinvention as a redirection, maintaining all of the group's essential
elements but setting them within a new context.