The proverbial pandemic pivot had a special meaning for Peter Morén. After the anticlimactic 2020 release of Endless Dream, the ninth album from his globally embraced, Stockholm-based indie-pop trio Peter Bjorn And John, he suddenly had all the time in the word to tackle his songwriter’s identity crisis. With COVID as the initial backdrop and esteemed peers like James Yorkston and the Go-Betweens’ Robert Forster top of mind, he headed down the rabbit hole, picking up fellow travelers along the way.
SunYears’ The Song Forlorn (Villa) bears the belated fruits of that search for self. Though billed as a collaborative project, this more cohesive follow-up to 2023’s Come Fetch My Soul! feels like a Morén solo album. As with the previous SunYears LP, there are some well-known guest artists, including Nicole Atkins and Grammy winner Madison Cunningham. The music deftly spans genres, from folk pop and piano balladry to garage rock and country(ish) twang. But it’s the lyrics that carry the load, with Morén fixing a steady gaze inward as he tackles weighty subjects like mental health, aging and mortality. Here’s more.
—Hobart Rowland
1) “Where Are We?”
“In December 2023, I was in Nashville for two weeks hanging out, meeting people and writing songs. One day, I went to expat Brit Jamie Lidell in his experimental workshop/studio full of unusual microphone setups, actual tapes running on loops and modular synths. I was a bit hungover, and he graciously made me a lovely breakfast burrito and then handed me a small acoustic instrument. Was it a sort of guitar? Or some kind of ukulele? I honestly can’t remember. He sat me in a chair, had me play it, then handed me percussion, a bass, etc. He just had me jamming while he worked his magic with tapes, outboard gear and whatnot. It became a lilting little psychedelic piece that draws you in, and it just felt like the perfect intro to this record.”
2) “Dark Eyes”
“This song is about when you feel a friend is not completely there, not present, kind of checked out, heading somewhere but seemingly lost in life. You want to help but don’t have the whole picture. You’re a bit left in the dark, grasping for conclusions. Musically, it’s straightforward—melodic, winsome, life-affirming yet melancholic. It’s a vibey, in-the-moment, live-in-the-studio performance with superb, locked-in, inventive bass and drums from Andreas Nordell and Kyle Crane, with some guitar sparkle sprinkled on top from yours truly. Richard Thompson-via-Television string-bending at the end. Sore fingers galore! It was done at my bandmate Bjorn’s Ingrid Studios in Stockholm with his half-brother Hans Stenlund engineering. I feel comfortable and at home with the sound there.”
3) “Last Night On The Mountain”
“During the pandemic, I tried my hand at a couple of distanced Zoom co-writes. It didn’t really work, until I hooked up with Sam Genders from Tunng. We kind of worked seamlessly. I can’t exactly remember who did what—that’s always a good sign with a collaboration. We took breaks, wrote separately, then went back online, compared and changed. This folky ballad stayed with me … almost sea-shanty-sque, but with a big rhythmic chorus and construction where it constantly builds in energy and delivery. I always heard more voices, and the first voice I thought of was Lisa Hannigan. I’m a longtime fan and just knew it would fit. I don’t know her, but we have mutual friends—and I’m delighted she agreed.”
4) “Your Dad Was Sad”
“This came from when my father-in-law passed away, but it’s directed at my wife … about growing together through life, and changes and hardships you might encounter. When you truly love someone, it aches, it hurts. It’s supposed to make you feel a bit sad in your heart, even when you’re happy. Then it’s real. I wrote this on the piano. For better or worse, I also play it on the recording, though hiring someone proper would’ve been quicker. Andreas and Nino (Keller) set up wonderful baroque-pop underpinnings in the rhythm section. We were thinking of the mid-’60s—Zombies, Left Banke, Kinks and all that lot—but through a modern lens.”
5) “(Going To A) Cruel Country”
“This is about facing your inner demons, revisiting places of the past, reliving memories. In doing so, you’re moving forward in life, figuring out who you are and why you became who you are. It has a lot to do with childhood—going back to physical places, walking past the school, through the woods … You can’t hide. I wanted this to be a raw, lo-fi, indie-rock powerhouse straight out of my ’90s roots. It’s melodic as always, but it also has something almost slacker-grungy, like Sebadoh or Yo La Tengo when they really rock. I actually had to ask Kyle to hit harder for this. Drummers are usually asked to hit softer.”
6) “If You Were To Ask”
“I first met James Yorkston in an old monastery in Stroud, U.K., where—weird as it seems—there was a songwriting camp. We never wrote together but drank lots of ale and danced to Carl Perkins. Through mutual friends, James then ended up recording three albums in Stockholm with a loose group of Swedish musicians. I played on those and toured with him a bit. He writes lots and lots of words and can’t fit music to them all—so I asked him for some. Inspired by those words, I tapped into a continental European feel. I’m a sucker for the melodic, melancholic language in French chansons, for example.
“I’d listened to de clair’s debut EP a lot when, out of the blue, my management suggested that maybe Clara Rudelius—the name behind the name—should sing on this. She agreed, and suddenly this slightly unfinished problem child of a recording jumped up as another favorite on the album.”
7) “Spanner In The Works”
“This was inspired by my life in music—a story song with some sort of conclusion and moral. The music business, and everything that comes with having music as a job, sometimes got me lost and sidetracked from what’s really worthwhile in life and music. But with all this mileage to draw from, I’m now back to just being relaxed and being me—like when I started. Songs about music as a livelihood are maybe too insular and boring. But to me, music is life. It affects everything: relationships, mood, health, etc.”
8) “The Body”
“Around the time I wrote this, I’d just fallen and sprained my foot. I also had problems with migraine (with aura) and anxiety attacks. I should probably see a shrink, but songs are my shrink. I find it really fascinating how the body takes care of your mental issues and makes them physical issues. So smart, our human construction. The body says, ‘Hey, wait a minute … think, check out, slow down,’ or whatever. At the same time, you have to work with your body—take care of it and nurture it. It all works in tandem.
“Nicole Atkins is an old friend I met years and years ago on tour with Peter Bjorn and John. We met up again when I went to Nashville. I thought of her energy and feel when I listened to the track. It’s less of a duet and more like we’re becoming one voice here—like we’re at a karaoke bar belting and battling. The track is pure garage-rock pop, but a sultry sort.”
9) “Swamp Mob”
“A late-night party where the Meters are jamming with Creedence Clearwater Revival. I’ve been trying to learn some country guitar chops the past few years, and I’m still such a novice. But I think I’ve integrated small grains of it into my own personal style. I know soul music better than country, so I’m trying to mix it up. All the best music is born in the intersections between genres anyway, isn’t it?”
10) “The Song Forlorn”
“The resolution and final sendoff message. There’s a reason it’s the title track. It came to me when I was cross-country skiing in my wife’s north Sweden home turf. It was pitch black, apart from the stars, and I was guided only by the electric lights on the track. It’s perfect to write when you’re all alone with your thoughts in a forest, moving along at your own pace, looking at snow, stars and trees. The song is in three parts and is all about addiction—drugs, kick-seeking, confirmation of your worth, dead-end encounters, etc.—filling up an emptiness inside. The last verse is my solution. It’s the constant pressure of new songs that want your attention, that want to be finished, that want to be as good as they can be … melodies that won’t let go, a lyrical puzzle you must solve. That’s why I made another album: I couldn’t forsake any of these songs. I had to stand up for them.
“I found the recording of this song to be magical—a moment never to return that we successfully captured. We put Kyle’s drums through a Roland Space Echo so we all could react to his delayed hits when playing together. The way Andreas lands on notes in some of his runs is a thing to cherish. I played just one guitar, all live and interacting with my pedal board instinctively. We were really like a jazz band doing rock.
“But a good thing can almost always be better. Kyle plays with Madison Cunningham, and we met through him. I seriously think she’s one of the most original and best singer/songwriter/guitarists we have these days. Her voice is a perfect counterpoint to mine here, and it truly brings the lyrics home. A home run.”
See Peter Bjorn And John live.
