Susanne Sundfør
Ten Love Songs

While in Italy and other countries, pop singers far from being innovative, stimulating, or particularly interesting in any way, have predictable songs written by individuals of sometimes even more dubious caliber, the Norwegian charts are topped by a vocalist with devastating vocal qualities, a multi-instrumentalist with a great musical knowledge, allowing her to compose songs that perfectly blend purely pleasant elements with original ideas and a few daring strokes. Always marked by a certain eclecticism, Susanne Sundfør announced a few months before the release of her fifth album, Ten Love Songs, that it would instead be a "fundamentally pop album" about love and war. I expected something in her style but more catchy than usual, based on her statements, certainly not garbage but probably a step back from the remarkable previous works, at least in terms of experimentation. Well, I was wrong.

The almost ecclesiastical intro constituted by Darlings suggests great things: a gentle voice rising over an unexpected organ that, in truth, marks many of the songs. Quite a different spirit is revealed by Accelerate, which introduces absurd sounds combined with much more unsettling tones. The vague feeling is that Susanne has fooled us all by telling us that it’s mostly a pop album with love songs, as the title suggests. The catchy chorus is paired with sinister tones and rather heavy electronic amenities. Suddenly everything stops, and the church organ returns with an interlude of a baroque nature. The two lines of the piece intersect in the finale, where we can contemplate acoustic and electronic percussion blending with pseudo-trance synthesizers added to the pipe organ and a lovely powerful bass.

Almost seamlessly, we enter Fade Away, a single of considerable craftsmanship already available for some time. Everything is much lighter than before, danceable, singable, little saturated, and always with that touch of organ that seems to aim to sign the album. No comment on the voice is needed. Particularly notable is the keyboard solo midway through the track, destined to become a classic. The tone changes significantly with Silencer: acoustic guitar and voice. As the arrangement complicates, the voice rises with infinite grace over memorable melodies. The second part is left to orchestrations graced by some angelic vocalizations. If in Norway pop is like this, I’m packing my bags.

Kamikaze begins with absolutely fascinating synthesizer sounds. While the voice begins to engrave the piece’s melody line into our minds, unexpectedly an electronic beat enters, soon giving way to rather trance-like incursions. The intense electronics dominate this piece while the initial synth continues to give the track something disorienting. Unexpected harmonic solutions mix with some things we might ordinarily define as trivial, but which within the varied context of the piece fit perfectly. Suddenly, a gong kills everything and gives way to a splendid outro based on a harpsichord. Yes.

Then begins Memorial, which at ten minutes long is by far the most extended piece written by Susanne. The initial fragile keyboard sounds are supported by an intense yet ethereal vocal arrangement that has something sacred about it. And indeed, the organ is quick to enter, delicate, serving as a carpet for the first words of the Norwegian singer. Once the section is over, an acoustic guitar is added to the organ, and soon percussion and synthesizers, leading to orchestrations. The crescendo interrupts to return to the initial delicacy, only to start again. The second verse gives way to electric guitar arpeggios over organ accompanied by multiple vocals and soon by measured and moving orchestrations. Slowly only the piano remains, giving life to a solo section then accompanied by absolutely evocative strings, with something of a truly chilling soundtrack. One tends to sum up what was heard in 20 minutes of life: minutes that have flown by incredibly and have allowed our hearing to traverse from powerful electronic walls to baroque and ecclesiastical, orchestral, acoustic music. I repeat, if this is Norwegian pop...

The track ends after an excellent piano performance by Susanne herself (one presumes), demonstrating great romantic sensitivity and, before bidding us farewell, giving in to one last heartfelt vocal performance. I cannot attempt to describe in words the last minute of Memorial. Delirious follows, also released by the singer a few months before the album's release. The dissonant introduction (which takes up a fifth of the piece) leaves space for a powerful and direct vocal performance. The entrance of the electronic apparatus is a blow to the heart, and the chorus is disorienting, with its allusions to harmonic directions often disappointed. Catchy but not too much, direct but not trivial, this piece too does not disappoint, although not exceedingly surprising, also thanks to a vocal performance that could be nothing but memorable. Without any fear, the outro is once again left to the strings.

Slowly begins with exemplary delicacy. A rather reverberated voice and ethereal soundscape. Surprisingly, electronic elements step in, creating a well-paced rhythm here as well, occasionally giving way to reprises of the introduction, albeit in a slightly more sustained manner. Once the piece is over, it still feels somewhat lacking. Far from being a despicable track, perhaps it is the first subdued moment of the album, despite the very promising start.

Trust Me takes up the organ + voice formula, this time stretching longer than expected, enriched only towards the end with typical Sundførian melodies characterized by celestial sounds and accompaniment textures of great evocative power. The tender poetry is violently broken by the distorted intro of Insects, the last track of the album, which immediately reveals a tighter and in some ways irregular rhythm section. The first two minutes seem to allude to something, rich in tension and anticipating an explosion, often heralded by disturbing sounds that sneak treacherously into the arrangement. Truthfully this never occurs in a completely satisfying way, and the piece remains more or less unchanged until its end and the end of the entire album. Which, in truth, leaves a bit of a bitter taste.

In conclusion, Ten Love Songs can be considered Susanne Sundfør's most successful album. Forty minutes that fly by as if they were fifteen at most, with great enjoyment. Perhaps devoid of devastating masterpieces like the title tracks of the previous two albums, it nonetheless manages to spread quality and originality in almost every track. An album of Love Songs that don't seem very romantic and certainly don't almost ever configure as songs in the most common sense of the term. Each piece has its catchy and pleasant element for everyone, but also numerous elements of experimentalism and an alternative type of expressive strength. Eclecticism is among the main merits of the album, both for the combination of instruments from different origins and for the compositional styles adopted. As always, the vocal display is spectacular, even if perhaps on average devoid of the virtuosity shown in other cases. The compositional vein is at an all-time high and proves capable of ranging in a way that few top singers would be able to give.
Despite a couple of disappointing moments, Sundfør does not seem inclined to lose her sparkle, and in this 2015 delivers a memorable work to her musical domain. Let’s hope she has much more to say!