Raw edges add warmth to this quietly intimate release, although it may feel just too unvarnished for some tastes.
It’s news to no one that recently there has been a huge resurgence in the popularity of vinyl, the sound of the crackle of a record suddenly appealing to a whole new generation of listeners, and this new love of analogue by Gen-Z and beyond means that more artists are being appreciated for lo-fi recording styles that may have once foolishly been deemed “old fashioned” – very good news indeed for Danish singer-songwriter Jacob Faurholt since he shunned the likes of autotune and wholeheartedly embraced any imperfections that may have made it onto recordings for his new album ‘Burn Burn Here’. Whether it’s the sound of a stool creaking or his son’s voice in the background, Faurholt understands the value of the warmth these things bring that slick, clinical production would wipe away with the press of a button.
“I walk the distance to a different place / A room that I couldn’t understand,” begins Faurholt on the opener ‘The Darkness’. “Graffiti on the wall said to me / That I was damned, my head was lost,” he continues against a soft acoustic guitar, his voice as shaky and unvarnished here as it is throughout. On ‘Your Face is a Storm’, he looks to find refuge with the one he loves (“It could be nice / If we hide inside / Until we’re in the clear”), while ‘Words Whispered from the Sand’ (that opens to the sound of his son saying “det brænder, det brænder” [“it burns, it burns”]) finds Faurholt looking back with regret at a past relationship (“Where the stars shine / Where the moon dreams / Of the love that’s lost in between the frames”).
On ‘Sad Sad Tears’, Faurholt shows his playful side as he taunts the listener via his own lyrics. “There’s no way / That you will listen / To this song,” he says, a glimmer of mischief present as he continues over some well placed harmonica: “Oh this song is gonna be a hit / It will hit me hard.” “I’m gonna hurry home / If that’s still a place for me,” he opens unguardedly on the delicate ‘Everything is Dumb and Bright’. “My head is spinning round n’ round / I feel there is nowhere that I can rest,” he further admits against some gentle string picking.
‘Brainy Advice’ sees Faurholt looking just for that in regards to figuring someone out. “Sometimes I hear your crying / Sometimes I can hear your heart,” he explains before adding his confusion at the sadness he’s witnessing: “There’s no reason for dying / Cause I love your smile.” The piano-heavy ‘Ringing Through the Corridors’ sees him confessing he’s scared by the vulnerability of loving someone so much even as he has them in his life, while on ‘The Shimmering of Ghosts’ he pledges fidelity and commitment, promising to love someone for “everyday of [his] life”.
If you’re a fan of the late, great Daniel Johnston, there will be a lot here for you to like in Faurholt’s brief, simple lyrics and sparse melodies, but realistically, it may all be a little too rough at the edges for some to enjoy; but then you get the feeling that Faurholt never really set out to please everyone, so much as to exercise his creativity in a way that feels completely authentic to him, and you can’t place a Spotify listener count on that kind of integrity.
