wedish instrumental neo-prog duo Sagor & Swing disbanded shortly after the release of their 2004 finale, Orgelplaneten (or, if you prefer, Organplanet). The outfit’s members, Eric Malmberg (organ/keyboards) and Ulf Möller (drums/percussion), drew unashamedly strong influences from fantasy prog pioneer and fellow countryman Bo Hansson. Hansson’s organ-toting prowess, paired with his routine of naming his albums after twentieth century English literary essentials (Lord of the Rings, Watership Down, etc.), set many standards in the Swedish prog-rock arena. He instilled a certain association between his home country and the music and its instrumentation (chiefly the Hammond organ). Sagor & Swing came closer than most in paying homage to Hansson’s forestial aural trinkets.

One who perhaps came somewhat closer than our abovementioned duo would be another Swede, Mr. Björn Olsson, formerly of Union Carbide Productions and The Soundtrack of Our Lives. Olsson’s 1999 tour de force Instrumentalmusik had a similar structure to the latter recordings of Sagor & Swing. It accurately echoed Hansson’s work without getting overly lively, keeping the entire album at an unhurried, hypnotic pace.

Malmberg’s debut solo effort, Den Gåtfulla Människan, shares in Instrumentalmusik’s leisurely temperament. It retains the same incantatory keyboard mastery found with both Hansson and Olsson. The obvious difference between Sagor & Swing and Malmberg (alone) is the lack of a drum kit. Möller’s percussion has been replaced with muffled, reverb-encrusted drum machine pitter-patter. Chances are you won’t even notice this element of Den Gåtfulla Människan unless you’re really listening for it. It is a minor component and simply ticks along in the background virtually unnoticed. With this missing element, Malmberg has extracted the drive and movement from Sagor & Swing, leaving merely the unpolluted, slow-moving serenity found with Hansson, Olsson et al. It amplifies the mystic nature of this scarcely ventured genre, making for a phenomenally pleasant listen.

“Människan och Evigheten” finds Malmberg in beatless ambient territories, conjuring up the aural equivalent of warming up beside tiny fireplaces and moss-coated lanterns. The hovering, looping bliss of “Överjaget” carries enough fruitful, mellow spunk to easily challenge your favorite Air track. The whole of Den Gåtfulla Människan employs nourishing measures of Hammond organs (as if you couldn’t have guessed) along with Moog synthesizers. Pillowy-soft keys whirl and rise behind soft, circling phrases. Malmberg fully exercises his keyboard expertise without descending into an ostentatious stupor. He clearly demonstrates his devotion to his mentors and does so seamlessly.