Over a decade of making music,
Molly Nilsson
established a sonic template that's undergone a few tweaks here and there, but mostly remains the same as it was in the beginning. Stately synth pop with insightful lyrics sung by
Nilsson
in a semi-detached style over the top of swelling synth pads and clunky drum machines, with the occasional sax added. It's a winning formula that's worked again and again thanks to
's way with a melody and her icy yet relatable persona. 2015's
Zenith
crystallized her sound into something close to perfection, but in 2018 she very nearly topped it with
Twenty Twenty
, her warmest, most accessible album yet. While the lyrics are still introspective, gloomy, and cast a doubtful eye on the future thanks to a calamitous present, the melodies she wraps around the words are uplifting, the musical backing is sprightly, and she produces with a lighter touch than usual. The synths float like puffy clouds instead of storm clouds, filling the songs with air instead of weighing them down with sadness. This approach may not be to the liking of those who fell under the spell of her early work, but there's still plenty of melancholy baked into the songs. She'll never write happy songs and even when she comes close on "Days of Dust," which comes across like a sunny pop radio hit with its uptempo rhythms and chunky guitars, it's still bummer pop. Her voice is suited to sadness and it's only gotten stronger over the years. Tracks like "A Slice of Lemon" and "Blinded by the Night," which ends the album on a pillowy slice of soft rock balladry, exhibit her restrained vocal prowess.
may not be the revelation that
was, but it's steady and strong and features
at her best as a songwriter, performer, and crafter of lightly gloomy synth pop. ~ Tim Sendra