Orange Oak does not make music for empty rooms.
The Swedish indie folk duo abides by this sentiment, and the September 11th release of their debut EP, almost, I thought to myself, confirms that their message of hope and acceptance is a universal offering to the filled-seat audience of the world.
Filippa Frisell and Erik Olsson both come from strong songwriting backgrounds, and garnered a global TikTok following after the duo’s formation in 2023. This 7-track EP showcases their organic and simple sound, inspired by artists like Phoebe Bridgers and Gregory Alan Isakov, as they examine the hard truths that growing up brings us face to face with.
The project opens with “garden green eyes”, a well-placed introduction to the intimately intertwined vocals and sparse production that defines the duo. Their voices compliment each other with a kind of symbiotic raspiness against multi-layered, melodic guitar. It’s a gentle reflection on how inherited trauma plants poisonous roots in us all if we do not have the courage to address it.
Track two, “love isn’t everything,” is a slowly unfolding story of regret that choosing love does not ensure an easy path to its cultivation. Sweeping acoustic strumming and tender lyricism turns this heartbreak on its head in the chorus: “Whatever we lost isn’t everything.” Frisell and Olsson plant their signature seed of hope in this section, leaving plenty of space around the phrasing for listeners to remember their own silver linings.
Another song of note, “the alchemist,” builds up from soft finger-picking into an atmospheric peak featuring haunting solos from the slide-guitar and banjo. Here, the alchemist which the duo seeks does not deal with the transformation of materials, but the creation of purpose from the ordinary aspects of life. This song channels the helplessness and uncertainty of youth into an earnest quest for “the science of meaning,” whose worth might increase in waiting for it.
The closing song, “genom eld & vatten (live),” is a return to their longstanding tradition of reinterpreting Swedish songs into English, which helped them first grow their fanbase. They exchange the 2003 Eurovision hit’s synthesized flutes and fiddles for a beautifully flawed acoustic accompaniment to the duo’s harmonies. It translates a promise of steadfast devotion amidst endless change that no trial can threaten.
Orange Oak’s almost, I thought to myself is a succinctly solid venture into the indie folk genre, showing a great depth of feeling and trust. The exciting duo will be supporting the Czech-Australian duo Amistat in October and November on their international tour.
