Henriette Sennenvaldt, front woman of the acclaimed Danish band Under Byen, delves into new territory on the far edges of pop in a new work that explores the permeable boundaries between the world and ourselves. Something Wonderful is deeply invested in matters of the heart, though what is at stake is romance in its most inclusive sense. The album commits to the slowness and rapture of the genre, but balks at the particularity of a sentimental narrative. Mining a musical history, Sennenvaldt croons, wavers, whoops, and whispers her way through layers of textured sound and merges several positions into paradoxical beauty. Horns blow – feverishly, delicately, confused, or structured – in the richly instrumented arrangements’ collage-like style that encourage each voice to do more than merely accompany. They contradict each other, often appear out of joint, approach and leave abruptly or softly, and form a continuity of interruption that carves out a choppy, precarious groove someplace between fragility and possibility. The album displays an obvious interest in the past—but whether it is a sly tribute or an examination of its implications, it never settles for an easy answer. It neither pathologizes nor idealizes its obsessions, but seems intent on wringing hope from banality and convention. Built with wit and playfulness Something Wonderful is equally compelling and challenging. It is oddly addictive and rewards the patient listener with music both generous and strange.