norwegian music evokes vulnerability

This morning I was in the mood for some new Norwegian music. After checking the latest music charts in Norway, including the VG-Lista, it dawned on me to look at Spotify to see what’s hot in Norway right now (not the weather for sure ;). Because I recently switched over to Spotify, the convenience of directly adding new songs to my playlists there in just a few clicks made the idea irresistible.

Lo and behold, I find a playlist called “Top 50 - Norway,” pictured above, which is updated every day with the tracks that are being played the most from people in Norway. What a great way to get such a comprehensive sense of the music played a distance so far away. And at number 1, a track called “Dans På Børdet,” which after just a few seconds, hooked me.

As I’ve always been a fan of vibrant pop and electronic dance music, and crying-in-the-club bops, an interest in Norway has given me an auspicious discoverability of songs of the sort—Aurora, Dagny, Sigrid, Astrid S—just to name a few artists I love. But in another realm I’ve found that there’s an idiosyncratic hip-hop style that nordic countries produce, a sound far distant from that of the dominating artists in the genre. And a genre I tend to stay away from, I find myself flustered at my enjoyment for the flow of tracks like “Dans På Børdet.” With that, I have incorporated more of the like into my party playlists and have become more open to music of a different kind in the process.

Alas, I’m excited to dance away the (increasingly longer) days to these new songs whilst the fresh spring air gives new light to all aspects of life. A new season offers a chance to renew pieces of us, and if we can surrender even our firmest of stances, might we break open enough to be changed and never close again.