A broken teacup, stained with Earl Grey, hums with the same quiet ache as “Jeg Glemmer Dig Aldrig.” Tomas Raae and the ethereal voice of Eline Hellerud Åsbakk craft something fragile, like frost on a window pane – beautiful and inherently ephemeral. It’s a love song, maybe, or a lament. It’s hard to pin down the heart of it exactly, which, I suppose, is the point. We don’t always know what we feel; it just washes over.

Raae’s instrumental work isn’t neatly categorized. There are flickers of jazz, yes, and a deep-rooted pull towards Nordic earthiness, but then a digital pulse enters, like a signal from a distant star. It’s the sound of old and new worlds colliding, perhaps reflecting how memory itself is both a fading photograph and a hyperreal projection at the same time. I once saw a flock of starlings perform a murmurations; this sounds a bit like the feeling that gives me.

There is this raw, emotive quality woven in, like a loose thread on a worn tapestry. The Danish, though I can’t grasp the words, seems to carry extra weight, somehow. I think about old Viking ships and stories sung around crackling fires, echoes of time itself seeping into the melody. Where did the teapot I’d had before break and go anyway?

“Jeg Glemmer Dig Aldrig” isn’t a song you listen to, really, but a state you enter into. It leaves you standing there, barefoot in a field, wondering if memory is just a clever trick the brain plays or something truly magical.

Follow Tomas Raae on Website, Facebook, Twitter, Bandcamp, YouTube, Instagram and SongKick.