Norwegian singer-songwriter Sondre Lerche has always been a man of textures. From tropicalia tinged smooth folk balladry to Costello-like pop rock freak outs, Lerche\u2019s career has been one of sonic exploration marked by only two constants: endless energy and hopeless romanticism. Whether he\u2019s playing old school jazz or dipping his toes into neo-psychedelia, Lerche always shows up with a spring in his step and his heart on his sleeve. Well, that was until about 3 albums ago now with his ludicrously lush eponymous album that slowed everything down to a hazy crawl. Finding himself at the tail end of a 7 year \u00a0marriage, Sondre Lerche<\/em> was a testament to the quiet contemplation of love\u2019s dissolution and, ever since then, he\u2019s been shaking off the weight of his loss with even further experimentation.<\/p>\n With that record, Sondre was found lost in the echo chamber of his own dreams and doubts, focusing his lyrics inward and expanding his sonic palate outwards. There\u2019s a dizzy listlessness to the whole affair and it\u2019s as heart achingly ambient as a breakup album can be. The album that followed, however, was the true \u201cdivorce record\u201d as Sondre claimed. Unlike Sondre Lerche, <\/em>with its nostalgic ruminations on the theoretical end of a relationship, Please <\/em>was focused entirely on the wound left when it all came to a head. But, no matter how sad the record is (and trust me, it\u2019s a sad one), there\u2019s a manic joy to the whole affair where one might expect sober reflection. For Sondre, it was a matter of embracing it all head on and wrestling with what was happening. In this struggle, he created his most aurally far reaching album to date, filled with arrhythmic drunken shambling (\u201cAt Time We Live Alone\u201d) and scorched-earth anthems for scorned lovers (\u201cLucifer\u201d) all with a disarming charm that is, at times, almost uncomfortable in its honesty. It\u2019s a fascinating exercise of a record and one that pays off handsomely not only for fans but, seemingly, for Lerche himself. If Sondre Lerche <\/em>was the dirge, Please <\/em>was the flickering funeral fire, and Lerche\u2019s newest album, Pleasure<\/em>, is the dancing on the ashes.<\/p>\n