Kadhim’s totally hot album of the week #9

On Sunday, I was at a friend-of-a-friend’s flat; it was almost completely burnt out. The TV had caught fire and the ensuing blaze had torn up the walls and slithered around the rooms, turning home into hell. Some things had survived: a coating of soot was all the happy family photos had to endure. Other things had been less lucky: a grand full-length mirror had been warped to destruction by the heat and the once-intricate frame was charred and black. I said to him, rather stupidly, “it feels like it was a really nice place”. He was kind enough to be patient with me and replied, simply, “yeah, it was…”

When I returned home that evening, to my conspicuously uncharred flat, I listened to Youth Lagoon’s debut album, The Year of Hibernation [Spotify], and felt transported back to those dark, ash-ridden rooms. I imagined sitting on the miraculously undamaged green leather sofa and thought about the destruction brought into his home; the place where we find solace and warmth eaten up by flames and smoke.

But, more striking than that was the sense of optimism. Youth Lagoon (a.k.a. Trevor Powers, of Idaho disposition) doesn’t paint a story of despair. The wistful guitar melodies, ghostly vocals, misty piano keys, and discreet beats (file next to Washed Out and Wild Nothing) speak of a rebirth, of a phoenix rising from the ashes. Which brings me nicely to why I spent my Sunday in a burnt-out flat: the friend-of-a-friend had decided to do a photo-shoot in the charred remains of his life, and needed some extra hands. There can be no doubt that if life is going to hand you heartache, there’s no truer response than to try to make something beautiful from it.

My reputation as “an extra pair of hands” is unimpeachable. If you want to make use of my hands, tweet @kadhimshubber and give me a time, place, and a bag of Haribo Starmix. Better still, tweet @YouthLagoon and tell him his music is “too obscure and pretentious”, and probably “too underground to be of use to anyone”.