"Rà-Àkõ-St" quickly settles into the relaxed grandiosity of the finest Italo disco—although you can detect a muscular quality to the production more reminiscent of Terje's output than Lindstrøm's more ethereal transmissions. But in spite of the percussion having a gratifying thump to it, the melodies are, of course, the main focus: tunes that seem to wind on and on forever, coiling lazily through distant harmonic realms before magically reappearing at their beginning.
The slightly brisker "Ęg-Gęd-Ōsis" focusses in on a mildly kitschy sense of angst, as if soundtracking a chase scene through some opulent Nordic resort. It's perhaps the weaker of the two, if only because those melodies hit the pleasure centres in a fractionally more roundabout way. But still, its ceaselessly rising arpeggios manage to climb to the kind of ecstatically camp heights few can reach. For all the admirably quixotic ambition of his recent work, there's no denying that this is what Lindstrøm does best.