Songs of the Week: Con the Artist, Ellen Krauss & Oskar Nordbø

Welcome to Songs of the Week, a running series with new selections.

Con the Artist – “All My Friends”

Few things sting quite like lost friendship. It’s a bittersweet parting, as you (or them) simply drift out of orbit. It happens. It’s neither good nor bad; it just is. With his new song “All My Friends,” Con the Artist wonders about those friendships that have faded just like the setting sun, leaving behind only faint memories and traces of what once was. “I miss the stupid late night conversations / Or hanging out at birthday celebrations,” he sings, the bouncy production deceiving the senses. “And getting drunk just isn’t fun if you’re the only one.” Con the Artist spends a handsome emotional currency, and each word feels thoughtfully chosen to impart the ache ripping through his chest. Those feelings may never go away, but at least he has a somewhat cathartic release.

Ellen Krauss – “Hungover (Head in a Can)”

Ellen Krauss is crafty with melodies. When she slides her voice over well-cemented toplines, you can be sure that it’ll get caught between the ears. “Hungover (Head in a Can)” is no exception. In fact, it contains one of her most immediate and irresistible hooks. “I wanna dive in the water, let your ships roll in,” she sings. “I wanna be fucked up, head over heels.” Her heart is torn in two from missing someone, its fragments scattered on the floor. Sorrow roars in her head and only such a perfectly-crafted melody can squelch the pain. “Never like that what I used to feel / You wanna get high and runaway with me,” she continues unfurling. Sometimes, you just have to curl up with a bottle of wine and cry your eyes out. Oh, and play this song on loop while you do.

Oskar Nordbø – “Runaway”

“I don’t wanna run away,” warbles Oskar Nordbø. Nestled between almost celestial guitar work and a piano’s crystal teardrops, there is a story about facing up to the past and realizing it doesn’t have to define one’s present. Drums gurgle into the mix, building and building into a crescendo. His words call to torrential downpours and ravaging seas, on which he must navigate whether he’s ready to or not. But he manages to emerge from such storms only battered and bruised. “To be released from all this gnawing pain / Some days, I swear oh I can actually taste it,” he sings. In performing the song, he has in some small way let the pain slip from his shoulders – at east for the time being. It might never go away, and he might still fail, yet it means everything that he has finally confronted it all.

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