A captivating collection of songs of grace and maturity from Brooklyn-based musician.
Sometimes an album comes along and is able to find its way through the crowded music scene and command a listener’s attention simply by its specialness. And sometimes, that specialness is merely some well-crafted songs performed in an honest, unadorned manner, no bells and whistles or production tricks to distract. This is one of those albums.
Love These Days by Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Karen Dahlstrom is a strong collection of songs rooted in contemporary folk, with dalliances into country, blues and even jazz. You wouldn’t be remiss if you were wondering why you hadn’t heard of Dahlstrom until now. To be fair, she is a bit of a late bloomer, but having spent some time as a member of the americana trio Bobtown, Dahlstrom returns with her first proper solo record. Brimming with beguiling songs that could only have been penned by someone with the life experiences to do them justice, it’s a discerning, mature worldview of life and love.
The charming opener Can’t Help Myself asserts itself immediately with an irresistible guitar and bass groove, punctuated with subtle flourishes of electric guitar, setting the tone for when Dahlstrom’s low, earthy voice surfaces. It’s a seductive, bluesy sound that immediately creates a mood for the songs that follow. Last of My Line, noteworthy for featuring Kenneth Pattengale of Milk Carton Kids fame on guitar and harmony, begins with the wry observation “Got no branches on the family tree”, leading to some honest self-reflection on what the absence of offspring means in terms of one’s family legacy. While it starts out on a mournful note, by the end of the song, there is acceptance and recognition that being a kind soul is ultimately all that matters. The folky interplay of guitars and voices is stunning as Dahlstrom sings “Don’t know what heaven has in store for me / But if I meet the ones who came before / I’ll say I took my light, and I made it shine / I’m the last of my line / I’m the last of my line”.
On the title track, Dahlstrom slips comfortably into jazz-infused territory. With its slow, easy groove adorned with a veil of cinematic strings, it has all the markings of a classic torch song, albeit one with a clever twist on the theme of romantic love. It’s not a far stretch for the jazz-trained singer to pull off, and she uses her voice to great effect here, the lyric cleverly capturing the paradoxes of later in life romance. The most striking track on the album, an absolute standout, is If I Had Known You, a sweet homage to Dahlstrom’s mother. Dahlstrom’s honest, emotional delivery, and the tasteful use of violin and viola provide an air of gravitas befitting the subject matter. When she sings “Then I held you on your final journey home / You hardly weighed anything at all / Would you have let me help you lay your burden down / If I’d known you”, the effect is simply spellbinding.
The album closes with a soulful cover of The Blue Nile’s Let’s Go Out Tonight that perfectly expresses the sad resignation being conveyed in the lyrics. Accompanied by only her acoustic guitar and upright bass, Dahlstrom wrenches every ounce of emotion out of the song chronicling the sad demise of a fading relationship. Disarmingly simple in its presentation, it’s an absorbing listen and a lovely way to close the album.
This is a powerful, mature piece of work, teeming with consistently strong songs. While Dahlstrom’s sincere and inviting voice and songs are the real draw here, mention should be made of the superb backing provided on most of the tracks. The musicians provide tasteful and restrained support throughout, giving the songs lots of room to breathe without ever getting in the way. Adding to the album’s enjoyment is the warm, immersive tone that complements her naturally appealing voice and provides the perfect setting for the songs to be heard. It truly is a nice-sounding album and recommended for anyone who appreciates the craft of good songwriting, where words, music, and arrangements all align perfectly.
