Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Sound engineering by Mike Gentry, Mastering by Sam Patlove
The mood that Malthe Fischer, the lead singer for the band Oh No Ono, seems to advance on the group's latest album, "Eggs," is one of cross-pollination and sunbathing. It's taking the pinnacle points of a summer vacation, the chill of a crispy autumn day and the delusional parts of a blizzard-produced whiteout and turning it into an essential feeling that means everything. Most of the way that Fischer comes off as a singer and communicator, lends itself to a freewheeling swim through infested dreams and wandering lines of thought that swing through countless definitions and offer split perceptions with his high-pitched delivery that could be likened to the old days of the Elephant 6 collective, Sub Pop's former odd poppers Jennifer Gentle and even Robert Schneider of the Apples In Stereo. It's as if the value that's placed on the words that Fischer sings should be depreciated slightly to account for the fascinating state of mind that they come from. They are just words and they mean more than their meanings will ever give away. They all sound as if they are laid out, soaking up the sun on the song, "Swim," which brings an ominous tone into the intersection, but allows everything to still feel effortless, as if the body singing is just out on the water, lying with his back on a raft, looking straight up to the sky and floating like a lump on the undulating currents. The man is being taken away, alone, but not alone, for who the fuck knows what lurches beneath the surface with a growling belly and a keen sense of smell. Oh No Ono takes us to the other side of life, when very little is spelled out and given much exactness, a place that we feel in our shaky hands and in the eyes that refuse to blink and the mind that can't for the life of it stop reeling and just rest. We're stuck with the concessions of living with fears and that small feeling of living below a vast heavens that is deeper than any perceivable value of measurement that our puny brains could ever comprehend. All of that could really twist a man into crazy knots and it seems as if we're getting into these discussions when we're sinking into Eggs. It's not as deep as the, "What does it all mean?" conversations, but it Fischer and Oh No Ono take us there conceptually, giving us the ins and the breaks to start hearing things that way. We take flight with the hissing and diving locusts and we feel wired to a different state of mind that let's us lose control of some of the sanity that we thought we had.