It might sound paradox to say as a writer of this blog, but: writing about music is hard for me. Sometimes it’s easier, but often it’s extremely hard. Probably because it means opening up about something so dear to my heart. It’s like stripping naked while transforming own feelings into words.
This might be the main reason, why it took me what feels like forever to actually write something about Blaue Blume’s EP “Beau & Lorette” that was released on 2. June 2014. A record I had been waiting for ever since listening to the incredible “On New Year’s Eve” for the very first time – because I basically kept falling in love anew with everything the Copenhagen-based four-piece put out along the way (for example, the latest single “In Disco Lights”).
I was not the only one. With every new release, the quartet gained greater reputation, success and support, making it undoubted to some of Denmark’s finest young exports. Therefore, the story about Blaue Blume’s growing hype reminded me of the old struggle about music you want everyone to hear, but that you also want to keep for yourself.
With “Beau & Lorette” on repeat, I realized again, how easy it actually is to uphold this fragile love affair with Blaue Blume’s music – even though I am supposed to share it with all them others. Because the songs on the EP build up some intimate atmosphere. Because they speak to you personally – without speaking aloud. Because they tell their secret to you, just you – without telling anything.
Blaue Blume as a whole creates emotional ambivalence and “Beau & Lorette” somehow makes you feel like a lover beyond reach does. Like someone who lures you with his or her bare being, who turns you incredibly on, but who at the same time keeps you on distance. Just like the woman in the blue dress who graces the picture on the EP’s cover and who radiates immense attraction, but already turns her back to the viewer, staying unreachable.