Sondre Lerche

No clutter, no retracing of steps, just 10 strong tunes that contrast but live together comfortably. In terms of the total package, it's right up there with Lerche's best work.

Offering a slightly subtler take on the style-shuffling of 2009′s Heartbeat Radio, Lerche somehow never loses cohesion.

His songwriting style is pitched somewhere between Elvis Costello, Burt Bacharach and early Roddy Frame, displaying a knack for heart-tugging chord changes and delicately deployed Brazilian rhythms. [Nov 2011, p.91]

The combination of intelligent and punchy songs, the sympathetic production, and Lerche's winning vocals make this a strong follow-up to Heartbeat Radio and further proof that Lerche doesn't need to mess around trying different things to keep people interested.

It may not be the most exciting or innovative record, but Sondre Lerche emphasizes all of the artist's strengths, making it far and away his most mature album to date.

Clearly, Lerche has not lost his power of introspection, nor has he given up his love for sonic exploration-it's all just been a bit smoothed over.

For new fans, this is a pretty good introduction. For fans who already own all his previous work, it's more of the same, but so well-crafted that they probably won't mind.

He's proved over six albums that he's adept at writing a tune that's catchy without being superficial. He spends a little too much time here doing that, which is why Sondre Lerche, while not a bad record, plays like a safe one.

Lerche's pretty falsetto around an unexpectedly funky beat before blossoming into a harmonious choral chant that evokes the kind of hard-won joy depicted at the end of movies, where people with tear-stained but smiling faces sway back and forth with their arms around each other.

Now a dependably intriguing wordsmith, he still shows no shortage of unusually intelligent quirks.

All in all, the album feels like the slightest bit bloodless, the older, wiser Lerche a little less than the yearning teenager we once knew.

In the end, the comfort if a Sondre Lerche album is what also makes it forgettable. [May 2011, p.79

This eponymous release is as flavorless as its moniker-in spite of the notable piano, string, and accordion flourishes, the rest of the mostly subdued bunch isn't all that memorable, with the possible exception of the closer, "When The River," which gets its laid-back groove on and ends up making a pretty impressive showing with dramatic synths, echo-y vocals, and jangly guitar.