Enter Sonnen Blume, with a self-titled debut album - the result of music which has been carefully curated through time, and it shows, which does exactly that. The niche here is dream pop, arguably a difficult sound to nail: lean too hard into the whimsy of it and the result will turn out saccharine, rely too much on production to enhance its vibes and it will come across as plasticky. It is, perhaps, a genre that can only be tackled with absolute earnestness, and absolute earnestness is precisely the approach this record takes, with successful results. In a landscape of loud music, this album speaks more softly, but it makes for an intimate, immersive listening experience that succeeds in channeling real feeling.
Sonnen Blume is German for ‘sunflowers’, and the record has much in common with its namesake flower. There is a brightness to its sound that is one of the first details striking the listener from the very first few bars of opening track ‘Satellites’, all in all one of the most accomplished songs in the album, the best examples of an use of synth to create a vastity of sound that truly has the same vibe as a sunlit wheat field dotted with tall yellow flowers. This same breadth of sound, returning in tracks like the faster-paced ‘Tschüss’, which features German lyrics and explicitly evokes the imagery of flooding sunshine, is not just texturally effective, but it has somewhat of a visual quality also, like the ten tracks in the album are a collection of brightly-coloured miniatures being painted in real time by the singer’s voice. ‘Chungking Express’, another stand-out which features at one point a spoken-word section, takes its name from a train, and it truly sounds like it’s taking you on a train ride; you can hear the thrumming of the carriage on the rail from the brief instrumental intro, turning into the driving rhythm of the whole song. Again, there is that feeling of music like landscape painting, made of wide horizons and bright colours, with a distinctively summery flavour to it.
This is, even so, far from a one-note record. Elsewhere, the sound turns more urgent, as in ‘Vitosha’, where the reflectiveness feels in places just a little haunting; or melancholy, as in ‘Making Coffee’, which feels that little bit dirtier, matching a depiction of domestic intimacy tinged with bitterness. Especially in this latter track, the lyric-writing is also on point, again tapping into that emotional honesty that makes the album hit harder than it otherwise would on sound alone. ‘10th December’ shares the same almost confessional quality, like words from a private diary put to music. In these two tracks most of all, perhaps, the chief influences in this music are tangible, coming straight from early Velvet Underground and in places feeling very close to the dreamlike softness of Julee Cruise’s music (most of all in ‘Neon Hearts’, which - visual again - shimmers like the buzzing lights in a night-time alley, supported by an instantly engaging main riff); although it could also be argued that Sonnen Blume’s sound has more recent relatives on the British scene, with the likes of Fling and quite possibly early bdrmm.
‘Spaniels’ is the kind of song you could find yourself dancing to on your own, bittersweet and compellingly swaying; closing track ‘The Clock’ has a snappier and almost retro vibe, showcasing an ability to sustain a fully-fledged range of voice even within the constraints of a single sub-genre and ending the album on a light-hearted note.
With its gentler touch and its soft-spoken confidence, this feels like an album that simply could not be rushed, and one that can’t be listened to in a rush, either. It demands a pause from the mad rush of contemporary life in a way that pop used to more often in the 80s, but not quite as much in the present day. It has perhaps a quieter beauty than we have become accustomed to, but it brings a pop of bright warmth that feels especially welcome in a cold winter.
Chiara Strazzulla
Image: ‘Sonnen Blume’ Official Album Cover