And I don't mean sensitive as in "fey," where the singer's every emotion curls up into a little ball. Nicolai Dunger is a hunky Swede who's made many a crowd of Scandi-boppers melt into puddles, and his latest album, Soul Rush, is big-time, unabashed pop. It's the sound of the first week of spring, of kids flying kites and playing doctor. This is an album you can throw on at a barbecue when you're flipping bratwursts and drinking cheap beer, and the cutest girl or bulkiest Abercrombie & Finch model will walk up and say, "Hey, when did Van Morrison put out a new record?"
Yes, he sounds like Van Morrison, though his voice is deeper and more guttural. He chews every word like an inch-thick steak, and he slurs the lines so much that he almost sounds intoxicated-- until you realize that every note is right where he wants it. The country-like opener, "I'd Rather Die," starts clean and simple, giving you a chance to get used to the voice; the tune is pretty, and the acoustic guitar appropriates the signature hook of "Stand by Your Man." And then, at the chorus, something just lets go: the steel pedal and organ swell, Magnus Ostrom starts bashing the drums with the lightest heavy touch-- and Dunger's voice soars while simultaneously digging ruts in the ground.
Dunger's earlier albums were more austere, and sometimes experimental; in the past he's even worked with folks like Robert Fripp. But it's not a slight to say that this album is easy on the ears, and his experience shows not through any sense of adventure but through good taste and craftsmanship. "Dr. Zhivago's Train" spins on a catchy guitar riff, trainlike drums and blasts of horns, underscored by weird electronic noodling-- all sweeping around a killer chorus, with the most convincing "oooh-oooh-oooh" to come from a blue-eyed soul singer in years.
Björn Yttling's arrangements are impeccable but organic, swelling out of nowhere but hitting with just enough power-- for example, the horn section on "Ballad of a Relationship," offering fitting accompaniment for Dunger's ruminations. The piano and violin on "Return of Love" contribute to a song that's more kicky than blue-- imagine a drunk Randy Newman singing the theme from Toy Story-- yet even here, the chorus can't help but take off. Even when they verge on cheesy, like the second-string Lyle Lovett-styled horns of "Something New," they're balanced by the severity of Dunger's throaty vocals.
"It makes me feel free," and, "I want something she can't give me" may not be Strindberg (or Morrison), but I defy you to make out enough of these lyrics to mind. In any case, Dunger has several nice turns, like "Lick my soul," from the title song. The serious moments on the album-- his solo features like the title track and the fragment-like "Nest"-- have genuine weight, and the last song, "Pass the Chains," is a downer, with grim guitar and a creepy piano resonating quietly behind. Dunger's somber moments are brought in as if to remind us he's a heavy soul, no matter how pretty the album can be. But I'm not sold. The ballads are nice, yet they don't have the punch of the brighter moments; this is a record that can't stop to brood.
