This record is so pretty. Sorry, I can't think of a
deeper thinker of an opener here. But that's 'cause
that's precisely what this record is: pretty. And not just an
average kind of pretty; more of a "you're so pretty
it's hard to look at you" pretty. Wow, I'm using the
word "pretty" so much, it's started to take on a new
ring... pretty, pretty. 'Tis indeed.
Dominated mostly by breakup songs — with the exception
of the mortality-questioning title track and the
frustrated-with-modern-life "Weekends" — Let There
Be Morning is a warm, albeit teary, Sunday album,
or the record that exaggerates your need to wallow in
self-pity post-breakup.
Strung with just the right amounts of room-filling
tearjerkers (lilting keys and strings), the record is
likely to raise a lump in your throat, or at least make you feel
fuzzy inside and go "awww" at its prettiness. The
melodies are sweet and accessible. The cooing lead
vocals are so soft and delicate, it's as if they are
breathing right down your ear canal, caressing your
romantic self.
But listen closely, and you'll see Sweden's The
Perishers are not all rainbows-and-puppies pretty.
Lead singer/songwriter and guitarist/pianist Ola Kluft
unabashedly shares the darker late-night moments of
his life. "One may think/ We're all right/ But we need
pills/ To sleep at night/ We need lies/ To make it
through the day/ We're not OK," Kluft concedes
alongside guest vocalist Sara Isakson on the raw, heart-wrenching "Pills."
And he has no qualms about being honest with emotion
and heartbreak. "I'm having trouble sleeping/ You're
jumping in my bed/ Twisting in my head/ Leave me,"
Kluft moans on the intimate and achy "Trouble
Sleeping." "I'm having trouble breathing/ You're
sitting on my chest/ I sure could use the rest/
Leave me."
It's also irresistibly easy to identify with his pain
on the infectious "My Heart," which pairs
desperate lyrics with upbeat beats. "It's my heart
you're stealing/ It's my heart you take/ It's my
heart you're dealing with/ And it's my heart you'll
break."
Let There Be Morning is so pretty, I can hardly
stand to look, even though I do — again and again and
again. On most Sundays anyway.
|
