Born of a beauty in brokenness - Brimheim’s lyrical fragility glints in the light, whilst tempestuous guitar layers crash on the shore. Home of the breaking waves is the literal translation of Brimheim. A name borrowed from her mother in honor of her Faroese side, and a nod to the emotional deluge inherent in Brimheim’s style. Brimheim’s debut album ‘can’t hate myself into a different shape’ was released in January of 2022 to critical acclaim, delivering the prowess and originality promised by her EP ‘Myself Misspelled’.
The album has an overpowering and cyclical rhythm. Direct confessionals layer over jogging beats, before breaking open into expansive and ethereal realms that softly fold back in on themselves. Bristling electronics bring contrast to the more classic 5-piece arrangements, echoing lyrical themes of alienation and adding a contemporary texture. Aesthetically adventurous yet cohesive.
The self-aware story-telling sees Brimheim often at her most splintered, when the music arrangement is at its most celestial. Soft-girl laments and folky bird-song serenades are aptly placed to sooth, in-between anguished anthems gnarled and cracked. Dissonant in places, piercingly to the point in others.
Brimheim is open about the ‘dark muddy place’ from which she began writing the album alone, before a profoundly successful collaboration with producer Søren Buhl Lassen. After only eight months in the studio! they emerged with the 11 swamp flowers that would create ‘can’t hate myself into a different shape’.
The ferocious momentum has continued from there. Joyfully (and with some astonishment) the Nordic music industry has embraced Brimheim’s experimental-minded artistry. Being cozy in her queerness, and candid about personal psychological discord - interviews frequently explore a wide and varied terrain.
Live performance is where Brimheim is truly unleashed. Ready or not - the waves of grimy guitar will spread over you, whilst that vocal range takes you anywhere it damn well pleases! Leaving behind just the salty traces of Brimheim’s signature and truthful, tender melancholia.
