Category: music

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musicmarch 5/31

Soen – hollowed

From the album Memorial (2023)

Hollowed was my most-listened-to song in 2023. I discovered Soen by chance through a Spotify playlist, and from the first listen, something clicked. As someone who consumes music constantly, it is rare for a song to make me pause, but this one did. Depending on my mood, it touches me differently each time. Sometimes, it feels like comfort. Other times, it carries a weight I cannot shake.

The more I listened, the more fascinated I became. Before I knew it, I had bought their entire discography on vinyl. When I truly connect with a band, that is always the next step. It is why my collection of CDs and LPs keeps growing. There is something about holding the music in my hands, about the physicality of it, that makes it feel more personal.

I cannot remember if I was in a difficult phase when I first heard Hollowed. It is just one of those songs. Maybe it is the longing in it, the yearning for something to be over yet not allowing it to truly end. That push and pull is something I often explore in my own writing. It lingers, like an unresolved emotion, refusing to be neatly packed away.

Last October, when Soen played in Luxembourg, I had to be there. The concert exceeded every expectation. I had not anticipated a vocalist who would deliver every note with such precision, nor did I expect the live performance to outshine the studio recordings. Yet there he was, fully present, making every word feel urgent and real. The energy in the room was palpable, as if everyone had stepped into the same emotional space.

There is no specific story of mine attached to Hollowed, but it still moves me. Sometimes it makes me smile, other times it makes me cry. I don’t analyse why. I just let it happen. Every time I hear it, I sing along, loudly and without hesitation. Sometimes I think about singing karaoke, though I would never do it alone. If I ever had the chance to sing a duet, it would be either this song or Where the Wild Roses Grow by Kylie Minogue and Nick Cave. Both songs tell a story. Both require voices that intertwine. And both feel like something I would want to share rather than sing alone.

Maybe that is why Hollowed stays with me. Lines like “talk to me, ease my need to be heard” or “we’re nothing but a shadow, nothing but a shade” resonate in ways I cannot quite explain. The way it is written feels familiar, close to how I write myself, as if the words were already part of me before I ever heard them.

Some things are meant to be shared. Some things are meant to be felt. And some songs, no matter how many times you hear them, never lose their pull.

Credits go to @ demfloseinewelt on Threads

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music march 2/31

Today’s song holds a lot of memories. When I started writing in 2012, I quickly joined Wattpad, a platform where I shared my work and connected with other writers. That is where I met Jamie.

I have mentioned Jamie before and will again because some people leave marks that do not fade with time. He was the first online friend I truly called my bestie. We talked every day, sharing our writing, our music, our struggles, and our joys. He pushed me beyond my comfort zone, encouraging me to take chances and believe in my voice.

In 2015, Jamie told me his leukemia had taken a turn for the worse. By mid-July, the cancer had claimed him. He was in his early thirties, married to the love of his life. He was loved, and when his cousin shared the news of his passing, he was instantly missed, not just by me, but by the entire community.

Then came the rumors. People whispered that Jamie never existed, that it was his cousin all along, catfishing us. I never believed it. Even if the rumors had been true, it would not have changed what he meant to me. The friendship was real to me, and that is what matters. I would have continued being friends with his cousin without hesitation.

A decade later, I still think of Jamie often. And this song, Erasure’s Always, will forever be tied to him.

Originally released in 1994 and can be found on the album I say  I say I say

What’s your second song for this music march?

Credits go to @ demfloseinewelt on Threads

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Music march 1/31

Music lovers, let’s make this a thing this month.

Let’s share random songs we love, with or without a bit about ourselves. It has been a while since I shared music just because I like it. Maybe the blog has felt a bit heavy with my monologues and stream-of-consciousness posts. The poetry is still going strong, though I only share about half of it here now. Most of it goes on Threads, while I keep the pieces I consider outstanding here with you.

Life is still good over here, even with the geopolitical situation being terrifying. I still love my job, which surprises me. I am not planning on leaving or complaining about it. Strange, right? I am still wrapping my head around the fact that I had five jobs between 2021 and 2023. To be fair, I am counting the current one since it started in 2023.

But I digress.

Today’s song:

🎵 Tom Grennan – Shadowboxing

It is the second single from the upcoming album Everywhere I Went, Led Me to Where I Didn’t Want to Be, set for release on August 15.

I heard this song on the radio while driving to work. I always have the radio on in the morning, but I often hear songs without really listening. This one stuck with me. Maybe it was the energy or the message, which I relate to because of my ADD. No, there is no H in my diagnosis. That is typically female.

I am feeling bubbly today. I drank too much coffee in the morning and too much alcohol at night. I spent the day listening to music and writing poetry and reading Franz Kafka’s diaries (between being a private chauffeur and taking care of the house and weekly groceries – the mundane tasks of a Saturday as a mum of three teenagers). It feels self-indulgent to say, but I cannot speak about others much, can I? It’s always me me me.

March has 31 days. One song per day, with a bit of the story behind why it is your song of the day.

Enjoy my song. If you feel inspired, join in.

If you prefer prog music, check this out: 
Rodney is sharing a daily progressive song throughout March.

Music has a way of anchoring us, even when everything else feels uncertain.

What song is on repeat for you today?

If I stay focused and disciplined enough, I will share one song every day this month. Be warned 🙂

I love you all, thank you for being there and seeing me.

Credits go to @ demfloseinewelt on Threads

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Sivert Høyem – dancing headlights (review)

There’s something about Sivert Høyem’s voice. It has gravity. Not just in the deep, resonant tone, but in the way it pulls you in without effort. It’s a voice that doesn’t just sing. It fills the space, lingers in the air, wraps around you. A voice like that doesn’t need theatrics. It speaks, and you listen.

His new album, Dancing Headlights, is his eighth studio album. Short, just over 32 minutes, but deliberate. Every second is used well. There’s no excess, no need to stretch songs beyond what they have to say. It’s stripped back in the right way, recorded live with his band, giving it a warmth that so much modern music lacks. Sivert called it “just a pop album,” but that feels almost dismissive of what he’s done here. If this is pop, it’s the kind that doesn’t chase trends, doesn’t try to impress, just exists, solid and timeless.

Unlike the widescreen darkness of Madrugada, Dancing Headlights leans into something more restrained, more personal. The sound feels warm, direct, as if it was played straight to tape without second-guessing. There are no grand orchestrations, no unnecessary layers. Just guitars with the right amount of bite, a rhythm section that breathes, and that voice, always at the centre.

The influence of classic pop and rock is undeniable, but there’s something distinctly Nordic about it too. That slow-burning intensity, the way songs feel like they belong to long roads and empty spaces. The way they hold emotion without spilling over into sentimentality.

The album doesn’t rely on one standout moment to define it. It’s the sum of its parts, a collection of eight songs that each hold their own. Some are immediate, some take their time, but together they create something cohesive. There’s a steadiness to it, a quiet confidence. Some albums want to surprise you, throw twists into the mix. Dancing Headlights doesn’t need to. Its strength is in its consistency, in its confidence to just be what it is.

Because it doesn’t overreach. Because it doesn’t try too hard to impress. Because it knows exactly what it’s supposed to be. Dancing Headlights is not an album that demands attention. It’s one that earns it.

Released through Hektor Grammofon, Sivert’s own label, the album thrives on the interplay of seasoned musicians who know exactly when to hold back and when to push forward. Recorded live with Cato Salsa (guitar), Christer Knutsen (keys), Øystein Frantzvåg (bass), and Børge Fjordheim (drums), it keeps the balance between looseness and precision.

It’s easy to underestimate an album like this. It’s not loud, not flashy, doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It just waits for the right moment, the right listener, the right state of mind.

You don’t just hear this album. You step into it. And once you do, it doesn’t leave for a while.

Find out more about Sivert Høyem and his projects: https://siverthoyem.com/

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Antimatter – Angelic (Parallel Matter)

released yesterday


Yesterday, Antimatter released the first single from their upcoming album, Parallel Matter, set to be released in January. The album breathes new life into older songs, revisiting and reimagining them with a fresh perspective. The first track, “Angelic (Parallel Matter),” originally appeared on their 2001 debut album, Saviour.

This new version is more than an update—it’s a reinvention. The original had a raw, minimalist charm that worked well for the band’s earlier sound, but this version feels heavier, fuller, and more deliberate. Mick Moss’s vocals, already one of the defining elements of Antimatter, feel even more resonant now. There’s an emotional weight to his performance that adds a new dimension to the song.

The arrangement has been refined too. The guitars have a bolder presence, the mix is more polished, and subtle production tweaks make the song feel contemporary without losing its essence. It’s louder, yes, but also more layered. It pulls you in and holds you there, which is what Antimatter does best.

Mick Moss continues to prove how underrated he is as a musician. His voice—often compared to Eddie Vedder’s—carries a distinctive honesty and depth. Whether or not the comparison holds, there’s no mistaking the power and uniqueness he brings to this track.

I do prefer this version over the original. It’s a deeper, more intense listening experience. However, I won’t share the original version here, and that’s a choice I stand by. The original co-writer no longer represents what Antimatter is today, and this reimagined version feels entirely Mick’s. It’s his vision, his voice, his story now.

If this track resonates with you, the full album Parallel Matter will be released in January. You can [preorder it here https://antimatter.bigcartel.com/ to experience all the reimagined versions in their entirety.

Go listen, and let it consume you.

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Remembered for a While – Nick Drake


I didn’t know his name. But Nick Drake’s voice stopped me. Still. Fragile. A melody so simple it felt almost private, like a secret shared in the dark. Not loud. Not demanding. Just there. And it stayed. His songs do that. They find you when you need them most, and they linger.


Nick Drake was born in 1948, in a quiet English village. He never wanted the spotlight. He wrote what he saw: beauty, silence, longing. In his short life he left three albums: Five Leaves Left, Bryter Layter, Pink Moon. Few listened then. Only later did the world begin to understand what we had lost.



The first time I heard Nick Drake I was writing late at night, drifting through a playlist with Tim Buckley and Jeff Buckley. Music that feels raw, exposed. Then Pink Moon began.


His music is unlike anything else. Gentle and piercing at once. Poetic words wrapped around delicate guitar lines. He sang about nature, loneliness, fleeting love. Listening to him is like sitting in a quiet room while rain taps against the windows. Peaceful. Reflective. Bittersweet. His voice doesn’t just carry words. It carries emotions you didn’t know you were holding.
Pink Moon was the first. Bare and close, as if he were sitting right beside me. Then Northern Sky, tender as sunlight breaking through heavy clouds. And River Man, haunting, a dream that refuses to let go. These aren’t just songs. They are experiences.


Nick died in 1974, only 26 years old. Too soon, too quietly. After struggling for  years with doubts and depression. Today his work is celebrated, his voice passed on like a secret that endures. His songs remind us to pause. To sit with silence. To feel. It’s the right soundtrack for a quiet day in autumn.


If you want to step closer, the book Nick Drake: Remembered for a While gathers letters, stories, fragments. A portrait of a man who saw more than most, who left behind more than he knew.
What makes his legacy endure is the honesty. He didn’t write for an audience. He wrote because he had to. That’s why his music feels like it belongs to you. Not just something to hear, but something to carry. For me, his songs are comfort and inspiration. Even the quietest voices last, even the quietest voices are remembered for a while.
And that’s something I can relate to, maybe a bit too much.

If you’ve never listened to Nick Drake, let me help you begin. Start here:

1. “Pink Moon” – A hauntingly simple track that feels both fragile and eternal.




2. “Northern Sky” – A love song so warm and hopeful it’s like a soft embrace.




3. “River Man” – Mysterious and poetic, a song that lingers long after it ends.





Nick Drake wasn’t just a musician—he was a quiet genius, a poet who poured his soul into his work. His music isn’t loud or flashy—it’s honest, vulnerable, and profoundly human. I hope his songs find you, just as they found me, and that they stay with you long after the final note fades. Sometimes, it’s the quietest voices that leave the loudest echoes.

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concert review: soen

This was my first time seeing Soen live, (and the first concert of this kind after the pandemic) and as a longtime fan who owns most of their discography, I was excited but also a little uncertain. Going to concerts can sometimes feel like stepping into a different world, and I wasn’t sure if I’d fit into the crowd. But as the night progressed, it became clear that none of that mattered. The connection I felt to the music was far more important than anything else.

The night began with two supporting acts, each offering something distinct. Trope, with their female vocalist and a mesmerizing guitarist, set an unexpected but welcome tone. The way the guitarist tortured his acoustic guitar was beautiful, creating intricate and raw melodies that perfectly balanced the ethereal quality of the vocals. Oddland, on the other hand, brought a heavier, progressive metal sound. Although their style was a bit too intense for my taste, there was no denying their precision and how they built up the energy in the room, setting the stage for Soen.

The set began with Dylan Thomas’s Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night filling the venue—a haunting, poetic start that set a contemplative tone. As the fog rolled in, Soen emerged one by one, and the first notes of Sincere echoed through the air. The intimate crowd at Rockhal Club, while not sold out, felt just right. There was enough space to enjoy the music without being shoulder to shoulder, but the energy was still palpable. At first, the band’s energy was restrained, almost as if they were feeling out the room, but that quickly changed as Sincere melted into the next songs.

Joel Ekelöf’s live vocals were something special. His voice sounded almost identical to how it does on their albums—clear, controlled, and deeply emotional. The harmonies, especially during songs like Lotus and Unbreakable, elevated the performance, adding layers of richness to the already atmospheric sound. It’s one thing to hear these harmonies on a studio album, but hearing them live made the music feel even more powerful and immersive.

The music was incredible, no doubt. Oleksii Kobel, their bassist, carried an energy that was magnetic—cool and intense all at once. His presence drew you in. I found myself unexpectedly captivated by Lars Åhlund, the rhythm guitarist and pianist, whose quiet confidence balanced out the larger-than-life performances of Cody Ford and Joel Ekelöf. Cody’s playing was flawless, though his posing—standing on a pedestal for his solos—felt a bit over the top for me. Still, it made me smile; it was part of the rockstar charm, even if it felt more expected than spontaneous.

As the concert progressed, Ekelöf began interacting more with the crowd, engaging us in playful games of who could cheer louder—the left or right side of the venue. It was a fun moment that broke down the usual performer-audience divide, making the night feel more intimate. The audience, split into halves, responded eagerly, and it became a call and response, an exchange of enthusiasm that fueled the rest of the performance.

The transitions between songs were seamless. One moment you were lost in Monarch, and before you knew it, Modesty swept you into its groove. By the time they played Lotus, the last song before the encore, I was fully immersed. That chorus—“gather around”—is still playing in my head. There’s something about it that reaches deep, pulling at those quiet places inside you.

But it was Soen’s encore, Violence, that left the deepest impression. The intensity of that final performance felt like an exclamation point at the end of a long sentence. The way the crowd reacted—the cheers, the energy—made it clear that we were all still riding the emotional wave long after the final chord. Days later, I’m still humming their songs, particularly Unbreakable and Lotus, and reflecting on how music that powerful can stay with you, long after the stage lights fade.

I’ll definitely be back the next time Soen comes to town. The connection I felt with their music, and with everyone in that room, was too meaningful to pass up again.

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Weather Systems – Ocean Without a Shore (album review)


Weather Systems’ debut album “Ocean Without a Shore” is an emotional and atmospheric journey, seamlessly blending post-rock and progressive elements. As the first release from Daniel Cavanagh’s new project, it stands on its own, marking a fresh chapter for fans of his earlier work. More than just a continuation of Anathema’s sound, this album feels like a deeply personal exploration of themes like love, loss, and spirituality. The addition of Petter Carlsen and Soraia Silva on vocals, and Daniel Cardoso on drums makes this a unique project. One that deserves an hour of your time for sure.

“Synaesthesia” opens the album with a nine-minute epic that immediately wraps the listener in its lush, layered soundscapes. Listening to it late at night, I felt like it mirrored my own inner turbulence—its slow build-up felt like an emotional release waiting to happen. The powerful drumming and soaring guitars make it one of those songs you not only hear but feel deep within. By the end, I felt like the track had taken me on a meditative journey, one where peace and turbulence coexist.

“Do Angels Sing Like Rain?” is where the album begins to dig deeper into its spiritual core. The vocals soar, and the recurring theme of angels adds a layer of mysticism to the track. What struck me was how it feels both delicate and powerful at the same time, with melodies that linger long after the song ends. I found myself revisiting this one, not just for its beauty, but for the sense of calm it brought amidst more complex emotions.

“Untouchable Part 3” draws directly from Anathema’s “Untouchable” series, and while it tugs at familiar heartstrings, it does so with a fresh energy. The orchestration is grand, the vocal harmonies are poignant, and by the end of it, I found myself immersed in a sense of longing—one that felt deeply familiar but still raw. This track bridges the gap between Daniel Cavanagh’s musical past and present, giving long-time fans a bittersweet taste of nostalgia, while offering something new.

As the title track, “Ocean Without a Shore” feels like the emotional and sonic centerpiece of the album. The slow build of filtered vocals and reserved melodies felt almost like a quiet reflection, pulling me into a deeply introspective space. When the electronic rhythm finally kicked in, I felt a surge of energy, like the track was guiding me towards something more expansive. It’s a slow burn but one that rewards patience with its rich emotional depth.

“The Space Between Us” left me feeling like I was floating. Its tribal-like vocal harmonies and atmospheric production felt otherworldly, as if the song was reaching beyond the physical to tap into something cosmic. This track, especially, felt like the perfect conclusion to the album’s journey. Listening to it while sitting by my window, watching the rain fall, I couldn’t help but feel like the music was speaking directly to the quiet spaces in my own life, filling them with both peace and longing.

One of the more unexpected tracks for me was “Ghost in the Machine.” At first, it seemed like another atmospheric piece, but after a couple of listens, I found myself humming its melodies at random moments. The interplay between the male and female vocals added a depth to the song that I didn’t notice at first. It’s one of those tracks that sneaks up on you and lingers long after you’ve stopped listening.

“Still Lake” provides a quieter, more reflective moment on the album. It begins with a piano-driven melody that gradually builds in intensity, leading to a cathartic release of sound. The emotional depth in this track reminded me of Anathema’s earlier works, but with a new sense of maturity. It’s the kind of song that allows for introspection, making it one of the more emotionally evocative moments on the record.

“Ocean Without a Shore” is more than just a debut—it’s an experience that stays with you long after the final note fades. Weather Systems have created an album that is deeply personal, offering listeners a chance to reflect on their own emotions and experiences. For me, it’s been more than just music; it’s been a companion for quiet moments and deep thoughts. Whether you’re a long-time fan of Daniel Cavanagh’s work or a new listener, this album will leave an indelible mark.

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Further Reading:

For more insights on “Ocean Without a Shore,” check out in-depth reviews on sonicperspectives,  progreport and blabbermouth.



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Listen to Ocean Without a Shore on Spotify

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Synaesthesia

Weather Systems released their newest song called “Synaesthesia”. For me, this is the best and most emotive new song I have heard in a while. At almost 10 minutes, it is very long – epic, but since it is divided into different sections with different styles, it does not feel that long at all. The piece masterfully captures the tension between opposing forces, guiding us through moments of vulnerability, intensity, and ultimately, reflection.

(the full video will premiere tomorrow)

If you’re looking for something that stirs the soul and invites deep reflection, “Synaesthesia” is a hauntingly beautiful experience.

Love works in mysterious ways

“Synaesthesia” is the second single, the first was called “Do Angels Sing Like Rain”. Weather Systems’ debut album “Ocean Without a Shore” will be released on September 27th on Mascot Records.

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30 day song challenge 30/30

Day 30

The last one. I am up early. I am always up early, but today I could have slept in. During the week, I get up at 5am. I was coughing myself awake again and I still have trouble breathing (and hearing) because of my congested nose.

Anyway…

A song that reminds you of yourself

There is not that one song that reminds me of me. I think others could find more suitable answers for this. And that’s why I ask you: is there a song that reminds you of me? Share your answers in the comments.

For me, this challenge (and the daily posts) end here. But, it’s never too late to join in on the fun. Or, you can, of course, share another daily challenge with me.

Me, I am going to take the next two weeks and relax and get healthy again. There’s a lot planned though, from trips to administrations to dentist and doctor’s appointments and dinners with lovely people… But first, just relaxing. Enjoy your weekend. Don’t forget me. ❤️

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30 day song challenge 29/30

Day 30

A song you remember from your childhood

Chris Rea – auberge

My mom was a big Chris Rea fan when I was a kid. I don’t know if she still listens to music. I haven’t seen her since my cousin’s wedding last year and I have absolutely no desire to see her or speak with her. And although I sound like an evil person, I made my peace with the situation. Anyway… I heard a lot of Chris Rea when I grew up (and Dire Straits, Pink Floyd and more). I did not take much positivity from my childhood, but music was always there in abundance.

It’s never too late to join in on the fun. Which is your song of choice?

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30 day song challenge 28/30

Day 28

A song by an artist whose voice you love

Paolo Nutini – Iron Sky

I already shared songs by other artists whose voice I love, notably Sivert Høyem. I prefer male voices (as you probably noticed – I don’t often share songs by female artists). Jack Savoretti has a great voice too, or Florent Pagny. There are many more worth mentioning for sure. Female singers I like are Annie Lennox or Skin or Sarah Bettens of K’s Choice.

It’s never too late to join in on the fun. Which song would you have chosen today?

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30 day song challenge 27/30

Day 27

A song that breaks your heart

The Swell Season – leave

Leaving you with just this song… Nothing to add ❤️

It’s never too late to join in on the fun. Which song breaks your heart?

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30 day music challenge 26/30

Still almost deaf on my right ear due to an infection, but doing my best to hear everyone and everything… Let me tell you, it’s not going too well. 🧓

Day 26

A song that makes you want to fall in love

Depeche Mode – somebody

Yeah… I want this and sometimes I even have it ❤️

It’s never too late to join in on the fun. Which song would you have picked today? (Sorry, not much blabbering because my ear hurts and I am coughing too much to focus for long periods of time.  3 more days at work and then 2 weeks off due to spring holidays)

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30 day song challenge 25/30

Day 25

It’s a late one today because I was busy and did not schedule the post.  For work, I have many trainings at Uni – just like today.

A song you like by an artist no longer living

Jeff Buckley – everybody here wants you

Oh come on?! Really?! It’s not as if I posted a Tim Buckley song before and can’t or won’t do it again. That’s why: Jeff Buckley – his song. With one of the sexiest songs I know. There’s just something about it. I could also have gone for Prince’s When Doves Cry Definitely my favourite Prince song. I could have chosen something by David Bowie or John Lennon or or …. Too many to choose from.

It’s never too late to join in on the fun. What’s your song today?