Kate Havnevik - You
Kate Havnevik’s sophomore album, 'You', is titled thus because ‘you’ is the word she says most throughout the album. On 'Myym', a song layered with jerky strings and surreptitious bleeps, she says ‘you’ quite a few times. In fact she says it so often that it drove this writer to a mild state of paranoia. I started shuffling cards nervously. I smoked a cigarette (I don’t smoke). I even alphabetised, colourised and categorised my DVDs, only to disassemble them again into a random order, deliberately putting some of the discs back in the wrong cases. I almost became as paranoid as she sounds when she sings, “someone will have to section me if my you cannot find you.” At least I think it’s ‘you’ and not ‘ewe.’ I haven’t ruled out that she’s in fact losing her mind because her adult female sheep cannot find you. Him. It. Either way it’s confusing. Not content on having said ‘you’ enough she then says it 1,532 times on 'Think Again', a dreamy ditzy ballad about a summer fling that she’s still desperately attached to.
That aside, apart from being more than a bit maudlin and saccharine, the songs are unfailingly catchy. 'Castaway'’s sweeping strings and atmospheric thudding drums elevate the song to a soaring landscape, giving the impression of an outcast roaming the Gobi Desert. With papping horns and carefree whistling 'Show Me Love' is unashamedly happy. Although at times it could be seen as mocking, the upbeat skip of the song could make it worthy of being used on any number of dating adverts fervently blooming into our consciousness, you can’t help but tap your foot to it.
The album starts promisingly with 'Krakowska', which, after some research on Wikipedia, turns out to be ‘a type of Polish sausage, usually served as a cold cut.’ The type seen in the meat sections of your local mini supermarket, which are always tempting but you can never really tell what’s under the opaque wrapping so you stick with Richmond sausages and take the indigestion that’s coming. The song itself starts with Havnevik’s delicate dulcet tones accompanied by soft melodic chords with a soupcon of electro whirring bleeps, adding depth and allowing the song to grow into a multi-layered pop song. 'Mouth 2 Mouth' demonstrates the subtle range and strength of Havnevik’s singing, whilst also showing her capability to write an intricate, fast paced, smash and grab hit. Promising in the way a capricious young English footballer is promising.
But, like most young English footballers the album never fulfils its early potential, petering out into the stagnant waters of mediocrity. Like choosing the Richmonds over the Krakowskas, the Norwegian chanteuse decides to play it safe for the rest of the album, not fully trusting her obvious talent. It’s not that her songs are bad, they’re really not. They just meander along without really grabbing the listener’s attention. One feels that she should be pushing the boundaries on her next album, or, like the Polish sausages, her records will remain alone on the shelf.
That aside, apart from being more than a bit maudlin and saccharine, the songs are unfailingly catchy. 'Castaway'’s sweeping strings and atmospheric thudding drums elevate the song to a soaring landscape, giving the impression of an outcast roaming the Gobi Desert. With papping horns and carefree whistling 'Show Me Love' is unashamedly happy. Although at times it could be seen as mocking, the upbeat skip of the song could make it worthy of being used on any number of dating adverts fervently blooming into our consciousness, you can’t help but tap your foot to it.
The album starts promisingly with 'Krakowska', which, after some research on Wikipedia, turns out to be ‘a type of Polish sausage, usually served as a cold cut.’ The type seen in the meat sections of your local mini supermarket, which are always tempting but you can never really tell what’s under the opaque wrapping so you stick with Richmond sausages and take the indigestion that’s coming. The song itself starts with Havnevik’s delicate dulcet tones accompanied by soft melodic chords with a soupcon of electro whirring bleeps, adding depth and allowing the song to grow into a multi-layered pop song. 'Mouth 2 Mouth' demonstrates the subtle range and strength of Havnevik’s singing, whilst also showing her capability to write an intricate, fast paced, smash and grab hit. Promising in the way a capricious young English footballer is promising.
But, like most young English footballers the album never fulfils its early potential, petering out into the stagnant waters of mediocrity. Like choosing the Richmonds over the Krakowskas, the Norwegian chanteuse decides to play it safe for the rest of the album, not fully trusting her obvious talent. It’s not that her songs are bad, they’re really not. They just meander along without really grabbing the listener’s attention. One feels that she should be pushing the boundaries on her next album, or, like the Polish sausages, her records will remain alone on the shelf.
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