"As I perceive it, in much of Magnus Granberg’ work, going back as far as projects such as Sheriff, there’s an in-drawing nurturing of self. However one may read the beautifully poetic, frequently melancholic nature of the titles of the pieces, this is far from a flattening of the nature of existence but rather a celebration of the interior life of the individual, both of the composer and his growing, attentive, audience, accumulated over time due to a remarkably consistent series of releases. Those familiar with Magnus’ work will likely be aware of a 'looseness’, an integrated opening for variations in the reading of the work that gently ‘undermine' the pre-determined elements of composition.
There’s a meditative, haunting stillness to much of Magnus’ work, particularly on this double album of variations on a composition based upon a series of propositions, carefully defined parameters that suggest as much as they direct. The compositional information demarcating boundaries while gamefully opening them up to interpretation allowing for intricate readings by an empathetic company of musicians true to Magnus’ high standards.
This is music for the twilight, the final rays, as our impaired vision of the solidity of things and their accompanying certainties, fall away. When describing Magnus' working process I’ve a desire to flip Cage’s ‘purposeless play’ to ‘purposeful’. It appears to me Magnus knows the coordinates, the conditions under which his ship sails, certain he’ll recognize the destination as a mirror of his own guiding principles, welcoming elements of the unknown within the carefully prescribed parameters of his personal cartography. " – David Sylvian