There are a few words that I think critics, musical or otherwise, should use more carefully. Chief among them is “pretentious”, a word that I’ve all but struck from my vocabulary. It has become a cudgel, a way to sneeringly dismiss genuine ambition or creative vision. The joy of art, and music in particular, is that there are an infinite number of ways to express yourself, and not every way is going to fit in a neat little box. Why not make a concept album about menstruation, or an avant-garde electronic opera based on the studies of Charles Darwin? There are certainly failed experiments and self-serious artistes (or both), but for someone to wave something off as “pretentious” shows that they’re unwilling or unable to engage with the material on its own terms.
Similarly, I’d like music critics to be careful with “childlike”, specifically regarding female vocals. It’s become shorthand for “high-pitched and unusual”, and it’s been applied to artists like Bjork, Joanna Newsom, and Fever Ray. Again, every word has its use, and there are songs by each artist that are meant to have a childlike quality. But overusing that descriptor has the side effect of diminishing the intelligence and skill of brilliant women (for “childlike” is almost exclusively used for female artists). Bjork, for instance, has a singular creative vision and a fearsome intellect, but (with no disrespect meant for Kristen Wiig) the popular image of her is a wide-eyed kook who babbles non-sequiturs in a swan dress.
I mention all of this because “Dog Eat Dog”, the strange-yet-absorbing new song by the Swedish group The Tiny, is the sort of song that less careful listeners might dismiss with those two words. It’s the kind of sharp, icy avant-pop that detractors dismiss as the dreaded p-word, and Ellekari Larsson’s vocals are described as “childlike” on the band’s own Wikipedia page. But in its enigmatic atmosphere and bewitching vocals, “Dog Eat Dog” shows how reductive easy labels can be.
“Dog Eat Dog” is wholly unpretentious. It’s not at all straightforward, but it’s honest and emotionally intense, and it’s to The Tiny’s credit that they understand those aren’t mutually exclusive. The song’s winding structure enables them to elicit the desired emotional responses from the listener. The first verse has a wintry, melancholic air thanks to Larsson’s plaintive voice and strings lowing in the background: “In time, you’ll know the answer/But I won’t tell you now,” she sings, as though she wishes she could.
The following verse, meanwhile, has a plunking, cabaret-ish tone to it that’s made thrilling by the contrast to its willowy predecessor: “Dog eat dog, they say/But how can I explain the reason why?” There’s a climbing feeling to the sound, and it builds anticipation for where this song is going. Without spoiling, I can say that it’s darker and more thrilling than you’d expect.
There’s nothing pretentious about good songwriting, nor is there anything childlike about Larsson’s performance. Yes, her voice is high and sweet, and she addresses someone named “daddy” at one point, but there’s a very adult sense of pain and regret in her vocals, too. Whether she’s chiming, sighing, or (at the climax) howling with chilling intensity, you feel how she feels, and you understand that this was never about playing or pretending. It’s about human cruelty, and it’s thrilling and frightening and beautiful all at once.
