A few weeks ago I went to the movies. Le Otto Montagne1 the film was called, and it played in Italian language only. A zero-action piece so contrary to the usual overwrought Hollywood productions, it almost hurt. Powerfully grand yet quiet pictures of mighty mountains, raw nature, and locals trying to eke out a living from this picturesque tract of land near to the Swiss border. A movie that had an almost visceral effect on many of the viewers. And what – at first – felt boring and bland, morphed into a potent almost overpowering impression of roaring silence. A story of an unbreakable friendship between two men – and a mountain cabin in the middle.
When I started on Ljungblut’s newest EP Sauda, it immediately brought the aforementioned movie to mind. The short blurb seems to bring to life the same nostalgic look and feel, fueled by a love for nature, vast landscapes, and past memories. And indeed, Kim Ljung here traveled back to his tiny childhood cabin in Sauda with his acoustic guitar.
The outcome is a clutch of quietly emotive songs that stand out by their barebone structure built on lonesome piano, ambient guitar acoustics, and Ljung‘s subdued vocals that flow by like the stream behind his cabin. A lot of that indeed reminded me of Howlett‘s autumnal reflections. A similarly personal short piece full of hidden emotions.
And this is what it is all about, isn’t it? A trip back in time to visit long-gone memories. All of that is masterfully arranged on a frugal platform of almost nihilistic dimensions. A short blurb with a smattering of serene and tranquil songs haunted by a sentimental touch. And an EP that could very well serve as part of the soundtrack for the aforementioned movie.
Lonely cabins seem to have magical powers. Or is it just me?
Ed’s note: Fancy more reflective folk? Try some Sangre de Muérdago.
Label: Karisma Records | Web: Facebook (band)
Release Date: 3 March 2023
- Italian for The Eight Mountains.-↩