I am only typing out the name of this album once. Here it goes: "Kaikkeuden kauneus ja k?sitt?m?tt?myys." From this point forward, I will simply refer to it as "Kkjk," and if anyone has a problem with that, I really don't care. Now that I've got that out of the way, let me say something about Es. This is the solo project of Fonal Records kingpin, Sami S?np?kkil?. Es embodies many of the things I love about the Finnish underground. With S?np?kkil?'s fresh take on these elements, though, the result is stunning.

"Kkjk" is a beautiful and mesmerizing album. It employs a variety of acoustic and electronic instruments to achieve its overall goal of lulling the listener into a state of paralysis. Listening to this record, I feel like I can't move. Maybe it's more that I don't want to move, because so much is happening, I feel that I could miss something if I do, and that would be disastrous. This album is fragile like a baby bird, and one must coax it along gently for it to take flight. Don't listen to this album a track a time; it must be heard all the way through in one sitting. Otherwise, it loses its overall effectiveness.

Sami S?np?kkil? is a composer of sorts. Not in the traditional sense, mind you, but his ability to piece together shattered moments and sounds is very impressive. This is most evident on tracks like "Huumaava Ikuisuus" and "S?dekellot." The former is a blistering, low-end drone while the latter features perfectly placed sparse instrumentation over tranquil field recordings of water and birds. On "Huumaava Ikuisuus," the best part is how the subtle shifts in the music invoke such sweeping, cinematic imagery. Lonesome piano strokes rise through the muddy, synthetic fog hinting that there is light on the other side. In conjunction with the delicate violins, also prevalent in the mix, it's almost heartbreaking.

"S?dkellot," on the other hand, is serenity defined. The smooth, cool churning of a bubbling brook is accented by random bird calls. It's like being stuck in the middle of the forests surrounding Tampere. S?np?kkil? uses bells, synthesizers, chimes, and organic sounds to complement the magical sounds of nature. This track is so calming that if listened to while lying down, you'd probably fall asleep. Summer has never sounded so good.

I wish I knew Finnish so I could understand the lyrics on "Kkjk." Vocalists Elissa M??tt?nen and Noora Tommila Laulaa provide beautiful, enchanting vocals. Laulaa reminds me a lot of Bj?rk; her voice is that powerful. On the short opening track, "Surullisille, Onnettomille...," her voice is the only sound we hear. S?np?kkil? puts it through a load of reverb and other effects, giving it an airy feeling that could fill an entire banquet hall. It's huge and wonderful. The other track using Laulaa's voice is the tender "Sadep?iv?t." Using piano and church bell samples along with the scratchy sound of vinyl, Laulaa's voice hovers in the air above the music. She teases the flowing sounds below her, knowing that without notice she could drop down and shatter the entire, barely-held-together piece. It's magnificent.

On the other hand, M??tt?nen's deeper voice has the ability to shake the ground. Her voice is also infectious, but in a different, more cerebral way. Both provide such a beautiful accompaniment to S?np?kkil?'s wonderful, organic songs.

One of the truly great things about Es is that it's not simply instrumental music. Sami S?np?kkil? has outdone himself on "Kkjk" by creating his own aural world. This music is dense in many ways. It will not only give your eardrums a gentle massage, it will also give your brain a workout. "Kkjk" is a minor masterpiece of an album. Don't let the long, Finnish title scare you off: this is beautiful, transcendental music. For any fan of experimental/outsider music, this is a record you cannot miss. 8/10 -- Brad Rose (25 May, 2005)