Tweed & Hyenas: The Intricate, Ethereal, and Flowing World of Their New Album Saltations

The musicians—Toby Couling (drums), Ben Madeley (guitar), Max Goff (bass), and Klæmint Hofgaard (vocals and guitar)—have crafted a delicate balance that holds both tenderness and wild freedom, wrapped in a ghostly haze. I was fortunate to immerse myself in the album in advance, letting my imagination roam as each song revealed its hidden meanings.

Sonically, Saltations leans toward a fusion of diverse genres: a blend of elegant pop lightness, spectral soul, soft psychedelia, and subtle electronic inflections. A faint echo weaves through the arrangements, gently enveloping the ear, and only when a track ends does the full effect of this mesmerizing weightlessness become clear. At times, hints of folk-like naturalness emerge, only to be followed by sudden bursts of urban rhythms.

Helicopter opens the door to a unique musical world, where light pop blends with soulful shades and a sleek alternative aesthetic. There’s no excess—just subtle strokes and a smooth melodic flow. Assembly Setter follows, unveiling a striking combination of percussion and a hypnotic rhythm. The first few seconds create an air of something new and unpredictable, then the vocals come in—hazy and dreamlike—pulling the listener away from the present moment.

Then there’s Sound & Fury, which brings a different energy. A minimalist approach works perfectly here; the track isn’t overloaded with details, yet its soft alternative sound has style, depth, and a sense of completeness. Complex rhythms and layered arrangements unfold in The Benefactor and Popheniaa. The former features sharp yet precise guitar riffs and hypnotic vocals, creating a mood that feels almost theatrical—vivid and dynamic. Then Popheniaa shifts the atmosphere to something lighter and more dreamlike.

Toward the end, the album seems to pause, settling into a warm, tranquil space. Milkman carries a romantic soulfulness, with Hofgaard’s dreamy vocals wrapping softly around the melody, evoking a sense of calm. This mood continues in Forever Recipe, where expansive choral harmonies add even more depth. Finally, Mel serves as the closing statement, unfolding gradually with a slow, steady rhythm. Five minutes is enough to completely dissolve into the melody, absorbing every nuance. The vocals here are hypnotic, lulling, leaving a mystical aftertaste.

After several listens, it became clear that this is an album to take in slowly, letting each track bloom in its own time. There’s no grandiose pomp, but instead an intimate, almost fairytale-like atmosphere through which hopes, joys, and quiet fears emerge. As the final seconds fade, there’s a lingering sense that the world outside has subtly changed.

If you ever get the chance to linger in silence and explore all the tracks without rush, I highly recommend paying special attention to what I found to be the most unusual ones—especially the three I mentioned earlier. With each listen, my confidence in their depth only grew. They tease, invite you back, and reveal new facets with every return—perhaps that’s the true magnetism of Saltations.

There’s something inspiring, warm, and subtly unpredictable about Tweed & Hyenas’ new album. For some, it might bring a sense of peace; for others, it could spark reflection or even encourage a walk in search of future stories. Returning to these songs feels like wandering quiet streets in a light rain—you take in the simple details around you, yet something wonderful is already taking shape within.


Michael Filip Reed Avatar