Does this album really come from Sweden? Really? No, REALLY? But you can feel the dust of the desert under the nails of the fingers that strum the guitar that sounds as if it was hand-made, sold and played by a melancholic cowboy.
It’s singer Johan Björklund’s rolled Rs that give away the band’s nationality and this Swedish hallmark provides a real idiosyncrasy to the eleven tracks.
Burning Bridges is Holmes’ third album, and one that if there’s any justice in the world, will see Holmes’ brand of Scandinavian Americana reach radios and stereos across a wider world than they’ve done so far.
It’s wistful from the offset with a slow pace riding alongside a mournful vocal as slide guitars and strings warm the bones of the track. “Cold, don’t let your heart grow cold, there’s warmth out there and love to share” is the opening line of a hugely lyrical album that offers optimism and encouragement to a mind seemingly without either.
The influence of Lambchop is immediately apparent; this is lighter than recent big Americana hitters like Band of Horses. It’s more delicate, poetic. The band hail fromVänersborg, a small town not far from Sweden’s music capital of Gothenburg (indeed the album was recorded here by Per-Ola Eriksson) and the remoteness and somewhat brisk conditions are a running theme throughout: “At times the cold will climb under your ribcage” sings Björklund on the bleak ‘Bells’.
The melodies alone on ‘Night Bright Night’ are worth the money alone. “There is a light in the field, from all the cars in the street and I always come back when I know I’ve strayed too long” is a line that says everything about small time living, the need to escape but the joy of returning, and hearing it built in layers is a joy.
‘I Will Never be Free’ picks the pace up and injects more of a folky influence before ‘All I Had in Store’ brings everything right back down. This pattern continues until the lengthy closer ‘Captain Weakheart’ ends on a folky freakout with instruments fuzzing and dancing around dueling guitar and piano riffs.
Emotionally, the whole album it’s fairy heart-wrenching, but in same uplifting way that Malcolm Middleton can make you feel pretty upbeat about the idea of dying alone. Turn it on, turn down the lights and immerse yourself in the fragility of something utterly beautiful.
