Readers might recall Rikke Normann from a couple of years ago. Her last, of about half a dozen appearances here, was with the single ‘Circles’ in January 2023 and as it happens that is one of the tracks on her new album, ‘Not even air can come btwn us now’.
That title might not be in the Fiona Apple class for length, but it’s long enough to contract the ‘between’. Love it.
I’d formed quite an attachment to her catchy, powerful melodies, her focus on individuality, her Regina Spektor-like style of delivery and her irrepressible sense of humour: her record label is called ‘Rikkeleaks’.
Not to mention her quirky party piece, which was to perform in her fans’ houses on demand; so much so that I dubbed her ‘The Queen of Living Room Shows’
And that last review ended with the observation “She’s a classy artist who never fails to deliver top quality work.”
She went AWOL after that and I wondered if she’d decided to try something else. Husky sledding perhaps?
But she’s probably been involved in a collaboration or two; she’s had many of them, including with artists we’ve featured such as Alan Walker and the Greek Eurovision entrant a few years back, the Norwegian Amanda Tenfjord, in addition to regular workouts on the Norwegian TV reality show Hver gang vi motes where artists sing each other’s songs.
Now she’s back, shorn of the Normann, as just plain Rikke, with an album written just as “I foresaw my own co-dependent relationship ending. This led me to stop ‘people pleasing’, and start putting myself first.”
I took advice on a sample track and the suggestion was ‘Horses in the Moonlight’ partly on the strength of its chorus, a song about taking a chance on something without any idea or concern about how it might turn out.
She says “It may be a dream, goal or personal relationship that you’re going for, whatever, but the sense of feeling alive when we make such moves is often invigorating and moves us on in our spiritual journey.”
There’s nothing like a horse riding out of town at dusk to create the notion of something mysterious and daring and replacing the man with no name here is the woman with half a name.
It’s classic Rikke with the exception that it rocks out to a greater degree than most of her stuff that I’ve previously been exposed to. That spiritual journey is highlighted by the thunderous roar of horses’ hoofs courtesy of a bass guitar that could have been plugged into the national grid.
And the repetition of two ascending or descending chords throughout the chorus, as simple as it is, works wonders.
There is a huge variety of music on this album. The only other track to be a rocker is the last one (and marginally the most impressive in my book), ‘New Beginnings’.
Otherwise there’s a sumptuous acoustic ballad, ‘Always a part of me’; two poppy tracks in a vaguely Carly Rae Jepsen style (‘What does it matter’ and ‘We collide’); the ethereal ‘Circles’; Nordic melancholy in ‘Dependent on you’; the playful ‘High horse (be gone)’and tongue in cheek ‘Flowers’.
And the subject matter is equally varied, from gratitude for past relationships (the one she foresaw ending, I guess), to recognising aspects of miscommunication between friends, to how avoiding confrontation can exacerbate the destructive nature of situations, to finding the strength to stand up to abusive behaviour.
The Human Condition under scrutiny, to tune after tune.
A veritable cornucopia of delights as they say.
And I just discovered that Rikke is originally from Bærum, the upmarket township to the west of Oslo that was also the childhood home of Sol Heilo.
Is there something in the water there?
Find her on:
Website: https://www.rikkenormann.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=732615583
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rikke.normann/
Photo credit: Helge Brekke.
