Self release – 27th February 2026
Christopher Nosnibor
‘Riv mig’ is so quiet at first you can hear slight shuffles during the introduction, but it builds, first with the vocal intensity, her voice cracking slightly, before the instrumentation explodes. Nothing could be more fitting for a song the title of which translates as ‘Demolish Me’, and the beefy electro groove at the start of the segmented and transitional ‘Before the Moths Get In’ is prefaced by a brief interlude in the form of ‘Skogsskrik 1’ which contains the faintest of ambience and a raw, primal scream. The title’s translation ‘Forest Scream 1’ is self-explanatory, and this seems like an appropriate point to delve into what Bränn min jord is really about.
In a sense, it’s about homecoming, but it’s also so much more. The accompanying notes are worth quoting at this point:
‘The inland of Halland, a patchwork of forests and abandoned mills in southern Sweden, is the backdrop for Fågelle’s most personal album yet… After years in Berlin and Gothenburg, she returned home — not out of nostalgia, but as an act of reclamation. She wanted to reconnect with the soil that shaped her and let something new grow from what had been left behind.
‘Bränn min jord (“Burn my soil”) grew from this process of renewal. Its title references the tradition of burning the ground to spark new life — a metaphor for the personal upheaval and rebuilding at the heart of the album. The music explores the tension of growing up somewhere you know you’ll have to leave, yet which keeps pulling you back. It speaks about identity, memory, and the hidden emotional landscapes of overlooked places.’
Here in England, we used to burn stubble in fields of corn and when after harvest. The practice was ended a good time ago for environmental reasons – the smoke and emissions were grim – and while the practice of heather burning on moorland continues, it’s been subject to significant reduction of late. We burn less soil, but still we do, and for the precise purpose of clearance and renewal. And there is much to be said for the power of the purge, the clearing of dead wood – and not just in the physical landscape.
Returning to a place can be difficult, too; reconciling the changes which have taken place, the difference between the past and the present. All of this feeds into the wide-ranging forms of this detailed, crafted album. ‘Det blev våra liv’ is unexpectedly poppy and light, but rather than feeling at odds with the main body of work, it feels like part of the natural flow of a work which is already rooted in nature.
The album’s form is shaped by brief interludes, with samples and fragmentary segments sitting between the ‘proper’ songs, and rather than interrupt the flow, they add to the depth of this exploratory work.
Title track ‘Bränn min jord’ is nothing short of epic: it’s poppy, but also operatic, cinematic, and essentially encapsulates the while of the album’s form in four dramatic minutes, and ‘Satans jävla fan’ is powerful and dense, worthy of comparison to Big | Brave, with whom Fågelle toured in 2022.
Bränn min jord is not an album which conforms easily to any specific genre. It’s expensive epic. It’s post-rock, but its more, so much more. But genre definitions are only so helpful anyway: what matter is that Bränn min jord is a great album, rich in emotional resonance and heavy atmosphere.
AA
AA
Aural Aggravation 