Susanna Distills Life with ‘Meditations on Love’
Norway’s Susanna aims to distill the world and bring it down to a set of uncomfortable truths on this album. Love will tear us apart again and again.
Susanna
Susanna: Triangle
I often find it easiest to make realizations about the world when I’m not struggling so much to be a part of it at that moment. This isn’t a new concept. People have long sought ways to gain clarity through meditation, isolation, or even just spending a day at home by yourself. Essentially, it all comes down to giving yourself a moment to think uninterrupted by society’s irrevocable call.
This seemed to have worked for Norwegian artist Susanna as she made her long plane journey across the United States. On her journey, she was said to be struck by sudden and prolific inspiration. With this “divine revelation”, she knew she must point her new album Triangle toward “spirituality, belief, and superstition.”
After picking such a lofty theme, Susanna attempts to ask some beautifully jarring questions in her work, such as “Where does common sense end, and belief start?” or “How we define ourselves as spiritual animals, or even something above animals — what does that mean?”, while also noting the power groups can claim through religion.
These are ideas that could lead to endless discussion, which I’d love to see the album explore. Unfortunately, while these themes may very well have impacted the music, they didn’t seem to do much for the lyrics besides land on a theme.
Instead of delving into these principles, Susanna is complacent in repeating spiritually topical phrases repeatedly, like “I am born again” or “Before the altar”. With this context in mind, the songs struggle to get any message across. They don’t provide much of an impact on their own. Sometimes the repeated phrase isn’t even remotely notable, such as the line “By the way”, stated over and over again during “For My Sins”.
Repeating phrases can be an effective tool in song crafting, but there needs to be a reason for doing so, and I’m not seeing one here at all. Overall, the lyrics on Triangle just aren’t that significant, at least compared to expectations from hearing about Susanna’s inspiration. There was an interesting moment involving wordplay though with “Triangle” being followed up by “Pyramid”, but sadly nothing seemed to take advantage of the metaphoric shift from 2D to 3D. The real magic of the album lies in the music.
Susanna spends most of her time on Triangle, alternating between different folk landscapes. Most of the 22 songs feature a very fluid melody, unrestrained by verses and choruses. “Burning Sea”, a song according to Susanna about “giving in to something, surrender, and feeling trapped at the same time”, is one of the most immediately satisfying examples of these pieces as she sings, “I belong to the darkness” with both a sense of belonging and fear. This looser structure also gives Susanna a chance to flex her notable voice. “Decomposing” really allows her the time and flexibility to execute her expressive vocal runs and leaps masterfully.
Many times in the album, however, the music just doesn’t contain the immediacy of “Burning Sea”. Many songs might start out sounding like Susanna is aimlessly wandering around the track, but with this type of music, it takes time for it to soak in. After a few listens, the album becomes more enjoyable. However, not every instance is so easily alleviated.
With an astounding 22 songs to its name, Triangle is bound to have some filler on it. Tracks like “Before The Altar”, “Shepherd”, and much of “The Fire” aren’t bad per se, but are noticeably weaker than the majority of the album. And when you have 22 tracks running over an hour, every weak moment is going to feel increasing taxing to the listener.
While many songs fall under a looser category, some of the best songs are more structured. “Hole” is one of a few examples of a pop song, and it is one of the best songs on the album. It features an impressive display of swirling synths and an infectious melody. “Texture Within” is a gorgeous ballad set to piano and Susanna’s understated production. Speaking of production, tracks like “Fear and Terror” and “Purple” really come into their own through her masterful skills. However, even her subtler insertions can leave a significant impact on a track.
Overall, Triangle is a pretty enjoyable album. Getting into might take a while, but it’s a worthwhile experience if you take the time to get to know the music. Throughout the lengthy and diverse selection of music, you’ll find there’s a lot to love here, especially Susanna’s expressive voice and the fine production. But that only makes for one side of the triangle, if you will. Had the lyrics been more representative of the source material, we’d be hearing all three sides, and the album would fully sound as intended.
Susanna: Flower of Evil
Susanna Wallumrod is the understated Norwegian indie/jazz singer who performs sans-surname, previously as Susanna and the Magical Orchestra, and now just as Susanna. Her previous solo album, Sonata Mix Dwarf Cosmos, was all originals, but she’s returned to the MOA of Melody Mountain, the album of covers she released with the Magic Orchestra in 2006 (2005 in the UK). Instead of ex-Jaga Jazzist member Morten Qvenild, this time Susanna’s joined by Qvenild’s In the Country bandmate Pal Hauksen and Supersilent’s Helge Sten, Rune Grammofon stalwarts who help create the sparse but haunting atmospherics Susanna’s come to be associated with.
Where Melody Mountain turned recognizable pop and hard rock hits into these floating, spare ballads, so Flower of Evil follows a similar formula. Susanna presents songs by Prince, Thin Lizzy, Lou Reed, and Abba, e.g., in the same manner – over simple grand piano chords that ring out like a Chopin prelude; shimmering cymbals that crescendo and drop away; and the occasional buzz of a treated guitar. The key, of course, is Susanna’s voice: a clear, plaintive instrument that she uses to define her cover versions and sprinkle them with character. Her voice echoes the widescreen emotion of the songs, whether croaking into gear at a phrase’s beginning or holding out a suspension over slow-shifting accompaniment without a hint of vibrato. It comes to seem a definition of purity, until she finds that keening lament (as in a spiritual) on, say, the chorus of “Can’t Shake Loose”.
Bonnie “Prince” Billy sings backup on “Jailbreak” but really makes a difference on the duet version of Badfinger’s “Without You”. Will Oldham’s voice blends into the soft timbre perfectly, fragile but without schmaltz, graciously making way for her more full-throated sound at the mid-point. Oldham is a nice addition, but this is Susanna’s show. Her completely re-tooled version of Black Sabbath’s “Changes” is a good example. In Wallumrod’s hands, the song becomes a sweet country ballad, accentuated with off-beat percussion and a quick flourish in the piano. Likewise, Nico’s “Janitor of Lunacy” is a thing of shimmering beauty, a short atonal effect in the background giving way to rolling piano arpeggios. Throughout, Susanna manages to extract charm and intimacy from this varied source material.
Wallumrod’s own songs – two succinct tracks that appear almost with an apologetic lack of heft — do blend easily with the tone of the album, but do little on their own to excite. The repetitions of “Whispering, whispering / And chanting, chanting” on “Wild Is the Will” recall Frida Hyvonen, a singer whose jazz underpinning and forthright vocal style Wallumrod occasionally recalls. Her piano ballads, beautiful and limpid as they are, do begin to merge into homogeneity by the final third of the record. So while Flower of Evil contains some majestic and heartbreaking moments, there’s also this sedative thrall, perpetuated by downbeat tempi and utilitarian timbre, that can make these same moments slip by unnoticed.
It must be the season for cover records. What with Cat Power’s EP, the Postmarks, and now Susanna offering versions of recognizable songs done up with (each in their own way) unique female vocal treatments, there’s plenty to distract the casual listener. Susanna’s probably going to remain something for those who are more adventurous; these Spartan, strange re-interpretations are emotive and certainly accessible, but over the course of the album, the persistent melancholy becomes heavy indeed.
Susanna: Sonata Mix Dwarf Cosmos
Before you listen to these 12 songs, you might want to consider your context. One sunny afternoon, the album’s lack of tangible tempo and overwhelming spaciousness nearly ground my day to a halt. But on a cloudy Sunday morning, these skeletal and sonorous sketches enveloped me warmly. In Sonata Mix Dwarf Cosmos, Norway native Susanna Karolina Wallumrød has crafted a solo effort comprised of her own compositions instead of the cover tunes favored on the most recent release with her band, Susanna and her Magical Orchestra.
Certainly, this record’s most lasting impression is of Susanna’s haunting voice, which is subtly accompanied by nine musicians on theremin, slide guitars, mellotron, and memorymoog. The harp-led “Hangout” echoes Joanna Newsom’s instrumental palate, while “Demon Dance” affirms the quiet strength of Susanna’s voice. The piano-and-bass-led “People Living” eschews a strong melody in favor of the vocalist’s enunciation of a few phrases. Interestingly, Susanna achieves the most striking impact in “Home Recording”, which features only her voice and her guitar. The landscape created by these 48 minutes is not a wholly distinctive or sonically-varied vista, but it is one of serene and delicate beauty.