The union of Kristopher Schau and Christoffer Schou shouldn't work on paper. The former has spent decades in the Norwegian rock trenches with deliberately abrasive outfits like The Cumshots and White Urine, whilst the latter has cultivated dreamy, textured soundscapes with Remington Super 60 and Twirlies. One traffics in volume and provocation; the other in atmosphere and restraint. That they've found common ground speaks to both artists' willingness to abandon their respective comfort zones.
What emerges is neither compromise nor awkward middle ground, but rather a persuasive third identity. The EP's sonic world — warm vocals cushioned by piano, subtle guitars, and restrained production — feels like a deliberate stripping away of both artists' more obvious tendencies. Schau's rough song sketches, once handed to Schou for production and arrangement, have been transformed into something hushed and introspective, occupying a space between melancholic indie rock and understated dream-pop.
Recorded during a Norwegian winter, *January* wears its seasonal melancholy without affectation. These aren't songs that announce their sadness; they inhabit it with the quiet resignation of someone staring out at grey skies and accepting what they see. The themes of stillness and emotional distance feel earned rather than performed, the product of two middle-aged musicians reflecting on life's accumulated weight rather than young romantics play-acting at despair.
"In the Dark" serves as the EP's emotional and sonic centrepiece, crystallising the project's aesthetic into four minutes of soft harmonies and nostalgic 90s alt-rock leanings. The production here is notably patient, allowing space between elements, never rushing toward catharsis or climax. It's the kind of song that reveals itself slowly, rewarding attention whilst never demanding it — a rare quality in contemporary music's attention economy.
The track's intimacy feels hard-won given Schau's background in confrontational rock music. His vocal delivery here suggests someone deliberately pulling back, finding power in understatement rather than volume. Schou's production choices support this restraint, wrapping the song in textures that feel both nostalgic and immediate, familiar yet distinctly their own.
Across the EP's remaining four tracks — "Follow the Water," "This Is on You," "Barely Holding On," and "You Would Have Said No" — this aesthetic holds firm. The consistency might read as limitation to some ears, but it's better understood as discipline. *January* knows exactly what it is and refuses to dilute its vision with unnecessary variation. The sequencing creates a cohesive atmosphere that justifies the EP format; this isn't a collection of singles but a sustained mood piece that benefits from being experienced whole.
The 90s reference points are present but never slavish — echoes of Bedhead's minimalism, Low's glacial pace, Red House Painters' aching vulnerability — filtered through a distinctly Scandinavian sensibility. The piano work throughout adds warmth without sweetness, grounding the songs in something tactile and human rather than letting them drift into pure ambience.
There's an honesty to *January* that feels increasingly rare. These are songs about life's smaller failures and quiet disappointments, the emotional wear that accumulates in the spaces between dramatic events. They don't offer solutions or redemption, just recognition — and perhaps that's enough.
Whether Schau.Schou represents a one-off experiment or the beginning of an ongoing partnership remains to be seen. But *January* stands as proof that sometimes the most unlikely collaborations yield the most genuine results. Two Schous, one melancholic vision, and five songs that understand winter's emotional architecture with uncommon grace.