A relatively late-emerging variety of hi-fi lover, the so-called high-ender usually invests several tens of thousands of euros for his audiophile pleasure. Why not? Who can that can this. Nasty people like to say that this "upscale" class of hi-fi equipment owners are extremely cautious about the number and artistic value of the recordings that make it onto or into the noble player of their system, which forms the entrance to audiophile listening pleasure. For some time now, singers from the Scandinavian cultural sphere, especially Norwegians, have been at the top of the hit list of high-enders. Why this is so is not conclusively clear. In any case, the hardcore high enders like to enjoy listening to the side noises that occur during singing, such as inhaling and exhaling, the production of sibilants and T-sounds, and the delicate fading of the voice, i.e. events that indicate a sophisticated microphone and other recording technique. In fact, exquisite recording technique forms a good part of the attraction of productions with Scandinavian singers. Another part of the attraction is due to the predominantly Norwegian language of the singer, which is still perceived as quite exotic by contemporaries living further south, or let's better say reminiscent of wild mountains, huge glaciers and deeply cut fjords. And yes: these Norwegian women can sing on a high artistic level. Thus, albums with them span a new dimension for the high-ender who is not spoiled in terms of artistic value.
Anette Askvik fulfills with her peculiar, mostly gentle, but nevertheless emphatically led voice and her high-class singing fully this longing for mountains, glaciers and fjords, so that her already ten years old debut album Liberty is still in demand not only by high-enders. In the meantime, the album is also available as a high-resolution download and, following the current trend towards nostalgic vinyl, as a double LP. This album also shines with the proverbial excellent recording technique of Scandinavian studios. The combination of competent vocals and excellent recording technique lifts the album Liberty far above the average of non-Scandinavian competitors, even years after its initial release.
Mixing sound collages recorded in her everyday life into her songs is a typical way for Anette Askvik to make her songs her own with a kind of stamp. An example of this is the song "April," with which the singer cheerfully celebrates the approach of spring after long winter nights in her homeland. In the title song, Anette Askvik questions the current state of our highest goods of freedom offered by democracy between saxophone interjections structuring the song like exclamation points. All songs unfold a powerful pull, which one cannot escape as a listener and also does not want at all.
Although Anette Askvik presents with Liberty an album not exactly dewy, but one skillfully adapted to the latest high-resolution digital technology, it still has its justification today, not least thanks to highly artistic value, alongside the second album Multiverse, which was created in the meantime, and the third album soon to be released. Long live the Norwegian art of singing and its interpreters, in whose circle Anette Askvik occupies a prominent place. Not only high-enders appreciate this.