Thursday, May 2, 2019

Daniel Norgren's Wooh Dang


Daniel Norgren's new LP Wooh Dang is a dry, lonely desert of an album, spare and beautiful and dusty around the edges. It reminds me of a sub-genre that came on strong about a decade ago, exemplified by bands like Castanets and early Calexico, music for hip people who happen to live in the middle of nowhere. This is sad music filled with empty yet meaningful spaces. This is the sort of music you'd imagine being spilled out of bars in Marfa or Arcosanti. It takes its time to unfold, but it also keeps things simple and honest along the way.

So here's the crazy thing. Norgren is from Sweden. He went out into the woods near his home to write these songs, and then he recorded them in an old farmhouse. In Sweden. I wonder how this type of music, so obviously influenced by what we call roots music, plays in Sweden, but I also happen to know that Swedish bands are so skilled at emulating American forms of music (Robyn, Serena-Maneesh) that they blend right in. Daniel Norgren blends right in. He could hop up on a SXSW stage and start playing and no one would be the wiser. Is this a good thing? I'm going to say that it is, and for one reason--Wooh Dang is charming, fun and otherwise totally legit.


Norgren has even mastered that thin, folksy way of singing that's so particular to Americana--I call it the Levon Helm School of Vocals. Perhaps that's why he seems so genuine. He sings in English, and he even does an excellent approximation of the "country" accent needed to give these types of songs heft and authenticity. I should probably stop obsessing about his nationality, but I'm discussing it because it reveals an underlying motivation--mainly, his love and dedication to folk and Americana and maybe a dash of psychedelic '60s rock. There's probably a rich, nuanced feeling that comes from living in one part of the world and having the music from another part of the world speak so directly to your heart, and that kind of love is obvious in every song.

My only real complaint with Wooh Dang is its brevity. Norgren takes his time with his songs and performs them in an unhurried manner, with lots of room for slow builds and quiet interludes. That makes the album fly by quickly before you've had a chance to really absorb the ideas. On the other hand I'd rather have that than an album with filler that seems to go on forever without a purpose for doing so. Norgren's new album is short, sweet and kind, and the LP pressing is quiet as can be. I don't need much more than this to make me happy, or at least beautifully sad.

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