Album Review

Ane Brun – Changing Of The Seasons

• 31st Jan 2009

Given the love affair of the British music loving public in the past, with song writers who have a penchant for brooding reflection, controlled animation and a darker veil that is removed by feeling felt, blues tinged vocal projectors like Alanis Morrissette, P J Harvey, Sigur Ros and Bjork.

It is a little surprising that Scandinavian scarlet Ane Brun, who has prolifically released albums in Norway and even had a modicum of success with a couple full lengths in America, is only now unleashing her quaint and quirky brand of nu/old pop into the UK.

This shock is quadrupled upon hearing the murky, eerie, well-built and slightly incongruous four minute plus opener, ‘The Treehouse Song’. This mini-epic plays with your emotions like a Labrador with a squeaky toy.

A slow and serene beginning is given a contemplative lean when Brun’s Dusty Springfield touching vocals kick in to speak of forlorn rejection and the hopelessness of a romantic outlook.

Brun has a commercial appeal with her distinct, clear and subtly forceful vocals that fully reap the fruits of deft and at times trickling accompaniments that combines a wistful key led approach with ambient strings.

This is something that the mournfully poetic, ‘The Fall’ does to chilling effect and the pedestrian forlornness continue in the Emiliana Torrini flavoured, ‘The Puzzle’.
Often, Ane slowly draws the listener into her dark tainted philosophy with the enchanting beckon of warming, yet haunting strings.

A low-key instrumental vibe simply illuminates the heart-laden vocals on display and some smooth supporting vocals are used for contrasting effect in title track. It is an approach that gives a little warmth to this wrestle with the topic of external sequences and how they can make you feel;

“How winter makes me reconsider it all.”

This austere Scandinavian life commentator knows how to maximise the impact of her musings, with help from a now well-drilled backing band. ‘Raise My Head’, represents a mild tempo switch to give matters an upbeat slant. An effect that’s emboldened from the help of a bounding piano touch and the vocals hover confidently, like a vulture over a zebra’s carcass, as the meaty topic of defence mechanisms is torn to pieces.

Sobering pleading in the form of ‘Don’t Leave,’ tugs at the heart strings without a hint of sappiness or sentimentality. A stirring, slowed down run through Cyndi Lauper’s ‘True Colours’, lends some potency to this UK edition and Brun shows her pace changing ability and an appreciation for the emotive power of pop.

This long overdue UK album could make way for an avalanche of releases from Brun’s prolific back catalogue.