LOUISE LEMÓN
A Broken Heart Is An Open Heart Icons Creating Evil Art Swedish singer-songwriter draws us into her heart of darkness.
You step out of the rain and into an ornate church. At the end of the aisle is a woman in a black veil singing gospel music, accompanied by piano, while a casket lies a few feet away. This funereal scene goes some way to describing the mood created by Swedish singer-songwriter Louise Lemón. Her self-described ‘death gospel’ combines soulful vocals with languid piano parts and mournful guitars, the soundtrack to a tragic movie scene or a disturbing dream.
In singing dark hymns from the heart, she follows in the footsteps of other alternative vocalists such as Anna Von Hausswolff, Nicole Sabouné, Emma Ruth Rundle and
Chelsea Wolfe. While more pop-influenced, her music’s by no means fluffy. Building on last year’s impressive debut Purge, A Broken Heart Is An Open Heart deals with love and loss, invoking a woozy atmosphere that swings between realism and uncertainty.
IT’S THE SOUNDTRACK TO A TRAGIC MOVIE SCENE.
Opener Sunlight begins with a rush of reverb, before Lemón’s voice breaks through, undulating between low confessions and high-pitched hope, explaining why she’s leaving a relationship that’s holding back her growth. It’s dramatic yet intimate, setting the tone for what’s to come. In Not Enough, with its deceptively light 60s intro, the power balance has flipped. Swimming In Sadness is more oblique, a stark piano ballad with a haunted quality, which leads into instrumental interlude Susceptible Soul. As classic rock guitar chords bump up against classical piano, discordant pysch rock meets the avant-garde. Meanwhile, Cross is the catchiest song here, complete with a churchy, Southern gothic organ sound. Throughout the album, Lemón repeats chorus lines like mantras, whether they’re certainties she wants to affirm or thoughts she’s torturing herself with. Breezy chart hits these ain’t. Yet during her feverish outpourings, there’s a feeling of fuzzy analogue warmth, thanks to vintage microphones/amplifiers, and the skills of returning producer Randall Dunn (Myrkur, Chelsea Wolfe). It brings the listener closer, inviting them into her inner thoughts.
If there’s a criticism of A Broken Heart…, it’s that Lemón’s dramatic inflection sometimes obscures her lyrics, reducing their power. There are also a lot of vocal ‘oooohs’, which suit the mood but can become repetitive. But these are minor points. This is a rich, indulgent and soul-bearing record that’s straightforward in theme but complex in emotion. Her voice is a powerful weapon, striking at the heart of her personal truths. Armed with these songs, and with a set at the artsy/ experimental Roadburn festival coming up, she’s growing as an artist, moving closer to the critical acclaim she deserves.