A Speck of Light – Rasmus Fynbo (reviewed by Dave Franklin)

Mention the term “concept album” these days, and people’s minds seem to conjure images of overblown prog-rockers dressed as wizards and singing about epic trips to Mordor or into deep space, of ten-minute guitar solos or worse, ten-minute bass solos! But just because such a form was marred by the excesses of a few past pretensions doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a place in the modern age.

Because A Speck of Light is, in many ways, a concept album or perhaps a modern operatic song cycle, the story running through each song is connected, each track akin to a sonic chapter in the life, love, losses, romance and relationship between the characters of Zane Patel and Lin Adams. But, if this is a concept album, and I maintain it is, you can throw away all notions and images of what I describe above. This is a modern pop opera, an infusion of accessible and infectious sonics, songs that can be appreciated in their own right but, when taken as a whole, are just as valid a collective piece as Bizet’s Carmen or Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess.

The album starts with A Summer Day in April, both the opening track and the launch pad for the whole project, not only acting as the seed from which the story itself grew but also the piece that made Rasmus Fynbo realise that he had, after much auditioning, found his perfect vocalist in Camila Castellani. Here, our two protagonists meet, fall in love, and, as summer gives way to autumn, go their separate ways, setting them on their own paths.

And, again, if the idea of concept albums suggests sonic excess, nothing is further from the truth here. This is a lilting pop song fashioned from Spanish guitars and classical grace, Latin grooves, and understated vibes. And over the next six songs, this particular story plays out.

By the time we get to Departure, both characters are set on their own, individual paths, and over the seductive rhythms of a bossa nova groove, having followed Zane deep into the woods, we try to work out where he has gone next. Camila Castellani’s vocals here are particularly emploring and enigmatic as mandolins race and percussive beats blossom.

This song cycle ends with A Poisoned Meal, which feels like an old Eastern folk song. The final dramatic act is part Guns of Brixton groove and part Klezmer ballad.

The next section of the album is formed from the pairing of songs that are Anhelando, a Spanish-language indie-folk piece that is part timeless sonics, part chart accessibility, and Sea of Time, a melancholic piece about death and reuniting, the passing of time, and the sadness of loss and being lost. Unrelated to the previous story, or at least running parallel to it, this is poignant and powerful stuff.

Three unconnected songs round out the album: Nostalgia, a cool Latin, chamber pop, dance-infused piece filled with sensuality and seduction, and Lullaby at the End of the World, which captures the suitable dreamlike state that its name implies.

This is gorgeous stuff, but more than that, it is music with real depth. Lyrically, it gathers strands from history and personal experience, mythology and fantasy, psychology and the human condition. Sonically, too, this is an exploratory album, blending Western sounds with Arabicesque styles and Latin groove with pop poise.

It might have been a few years since Rasmus Fynbo’s music passed my way, but this was well worth waiting for.