It’s surprising to read that Jeniferever formed in 1996 for this Swedish act appear to be producing the kind of of emotionally draining, painstakingly-arranged material that has been at the forefront of post-rock music since the turn of the century. Their latest record, ‘Spring Tides’, pounds away for over an hour and may well excite genre fanatics but it’s a long slog for the uninitiated.

‘Green Meadow Island’ tells you pretty much all you need to know about the band. Kristofer Jönson’s breathy vocals provide the topping to a dense, aching swell of of guitars and percussion. You can almost sense the band collapsing after the song has finished such is the emotional and physical investment required. ‘Concrete And Glass’ heads down a similar route but adds strings to provide extra layers of colour and melancholia. Meanwhile, ‘Ox’Eye’ is the nearest we get to shoegazing with Jönson’s cries getting ever more desperate as they drown underneath the growing intensity of the effects and then the excellent ‘St. Gallen’ is distinguished by the insistent murmur of a Hammond organ.

The first half is concluded by ‘Nangijala’; initially it seems to be a gentler and less complex track but the Swedish quartet can’t resist the inevitable grand finale after ten energy-sapping minutes. Sadly, the formula seems to run dry after an impressive opening and most of the tracks could have been curtailed before they repeat their “hook” too many times but then I guess that would miss one of the main points of post-rock.

Each offering on ‘Spring Tides’ merits words like “sprawling” and “epic” but if only the group were more concise and more varied in their approach they might have been on to something special here. As it is, their thunder has been stolen by acts who have been around for a much shorter time than Jeniferever.

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For more from Jon, please read his ‘zine Leonards Lair