After a four-year hiatus in which Leif Vollebekk apparently struggled with writer’s block and strived to find the right sounds worthy of his third full-length offering, Twin Solitude is finally here. Such care and time-taking is nothing new for Vollebekk – he spent three years searching for the “perfect takes” to put into his sophomore album North Americana, filled with songs “that can hold up in a storm”.
Whether or not the same was his intention with his third release, Twin Solitude is again characterised by such familiar reliability, Vollebekk’s slow and ever-steady songwriting providing a calming influence no matter how hard the rain tears down outside. His simple yet soulful lyrics paint vivid pictures in the listener’s head, conjuring up scraps of nostalgia from Vollebekk’s past and our own, making us identify with experiences outwith our ken.
Similarly, the lilting tone of his silky smooth voice offers even more stability; his softly-softly style is reminiscent of an avant-garde Jamie Cullum, a somewhat pedestrian Bob Dylan. He combines elements of both without ever venturing into the extremities of either, resulting in a satisfactorily serene album.
Opening track ‘Vancouver’ sets the jazz-lounge mood for the rest of the release, easing the listener in with gentle guitar strums and lullabying lyrics. ‘All Night Sedans’ continues the theme, while ‘Elegy’ steps things up a gear or two and reveals itself to be the standout track on the album. However, such a statement is misleading; with a portfolio of tracks so uniform in style and quality, it’s hard to pick out any that stand head and shoulders above others.
Indeed, it’s this uniformity which proves to be Vollbekk’s biggest downfall. There’s no doubt he’s an accomplished and supremely talented songsmith, but the relentlessly easy-listening aesthetic of the record makes it instantly likeable, but difficult to love. Fans of the genre will lap up the Canadian’s effortlessly smooth style, and Twin Solitude is certainly a worthy addition to Vollebekk’s oeuvre. A great soundtrack to solitude, and perhaps one to have you pining for the experience again – but only due to its reassuring repetitiveness.