Der Norweger Sondre Lerche macht herrlich unaufdringlichen Gitarrenpop. In seiner Heimat Norwegen und in den Vereinigten Staaten überschlagen sich die Kritiker vor Begeisterung. Nun will er mit seinem selbstbetitelten, sechsten Studioalbum auch Deutschland erobern.

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UNCUT MAGAZINE (UK): 4/5 STARS

“To divert my mind/I try to make another love song rhyme,” Sondre Lerche sings on his sixth album. That this couplet (in “Coliseum Town”) technically fails to rhyme itself is just one of many wry touches on Sondre Lerche. The Norwegian-born singer/songwriter mixes his usual verbose confessionals with sparser production than on past efforts, sifting in raw, chilly blues (“Tied Up to the Tide”) and touches of country (“Go Right Ahead”). As 2009′s Heartbeat Radio hinted, and Sondre Lerche cements, the man has grown since his early-2000s days as an indie-pop prodigy: Now a dependably intriguing wordsmith, he still shows no shortage of unusually intelligent quirks. ★★★
- Stacey Anderson, Rolling Stone

Sondre Lerche: Sondre Lerche

At only 28, Sondre Lerche finds himself at a premature career crossroads: what more does he have to say?

Think about it: he busted out of the gates as a fully formed teenaged songwriting talent on 2002’s Faces Down. Since then, he’s done a stylistic zigzag on the Chet Baker-aping Duper Sessions, soundtracked a film (however slight) with Dan in Real Life and released another three albums of damn enjoyable pop.

That’s a full, enviable career right there. But the scary thing is, Lerche might just be hitting his prime.

At 10 tracks and 40 minutes, his new self-titled album isn’t so much a bold departure as it is a tight consolidation of strengths. But when you’re operating at Lerche’s level, that’s an impressive thing to hear.

At their best, Lerche’s songs are like pieces of plush furniture with one leg sawed shorter than the others. They seem inviting, and you can sink right into them, but there’s always something that feels just a bit off-center, preventing listeners from getting too complacent or comfortable.

Take “Go Right Ahead,” which sounds brasher and groovier than anything Lerche’s done up to this point: Instead of just riding the song’s killer bass line to glory, Lerche slams the emergency breaks with a number of abrupt halts and side tours. Not a good thing for head-bobbing, but a great thing for repeat listens.

Of course, Lerche can also flourish a rock anthem like “Private Caller” with so much effortless grace that it seems unfair. But that’s expected of him at this point. Just as impressive are little stylistic forays like “Coliseum Town,” with its lovelorn lost tourist narrator and sympathetic strings, or “Domino,” with its warm jazz chords and pastoral lilt.

I’ve heard the argument before that 10 songs is the ideal length for a rock record, and Lerche makes a compelling case here. No clutter, no retracing of steps, just 10 strong tunes that contrast but live together comfortably. In terms of the total package, it’s right up there with Lerche’s best work.

Truth be told, his batting average is getting a little ridiculous at this point.

- Jeremy Goldmeier, Paste

Sondre Lerche

Just another slab of great Scandinavian pop

Spin Rating: 8 of 10

For album six, this notoriously restless Norwegian flouts expectation in the oddest way yet: He repeats himself. Offering a slightly subtler take on the style-shuffling of 2009′s Heartbeat Radio, Lerche somehow never loses cohesion. Chalk it up to his honeyed voice and unfailing pop craft, whether he’s playing taut Bacharach chamber folk (“Ricochet”), Costello-clever pub rock (“Private Caller”), bluesy Lennon-esque psychedelia (“Tied Up to the Tide”), or frenzied synth strangeness (“Go Right Ahead”).

- Chris Martens, Spin

Sondre Lerche’s Barn Identity

Most artists who plan on releasing a self-titled album do it straight out of the gate: for their debut, or maybe sophomore, release, in order to introduce their sound to the world. But at this point, Norwegian-born indie-popper Sondre Lerche needs little introduction: his jazz-inflected melodies have been pumping in earbuds from Norway to the US and beyond for a solid decade, since his lauded debut, Faces Down, was released in 2001. Between Faces Down and his last release, 2009′sHeartbeat Radio, Lerche recorded four more studio albums—plus the soundtrack to the Steve Carell film Dan in Real Life—and, at this point, no one could accuse him of being a newcomer.

So it was a bit of a mystery, going into our chat with Lerche, why he’d choose to name his sixth album Sondre Lerche: did it represent some fundamental shift in his identity? And there were some other mysteries, too: what’s it like to play music in a barn? Why does writing have to be lonely? And how, for once and for all, is Sondre Lerche pronounced? He was kind enough to clear all that—and more—up for us.

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Providing thinking man’s pop, Sondre Lerche’s snaking melodies ease things, despite their complexity

Sondre Lerche makes hard songs sound easy. His melodies roam and his chord structures wander, referencing the adventure of jazz. But the hooks he embeds along the way, and the boyish comfort with which he delivers his tunes, has the joy of pop.

“Sometimes, I wish I would write simpler songs that were easier for people to play, or even to absorb,” Lerche says.

“But I try to make them comfortable enough to wrap your head around. Then, you can explore the complexity later, if you want.”

Those who do have found much to ponder and enjoy on Lerche’s six albums. He’ll pluck songs from several at his show at Bowery Ballroom Friday night, part of his first tour in five years to feature a full, rocking band.

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Mr. Lerche was all boyish smiles and bonhomie, greeting the audience like a particularly anticipated party guest. His new album, “Heartbeat Radio” (Rounder), uses a full band, yet he managed to simulate its dynamics with only his electric or acoustic guitar, deploying modest fingerpicking or brisk syncopations or punky electric strumming in meticulous arrangements.

The songs on “Heartbeat Radio,” which filled Mr. Lerche’s set, are steeped in Tin Pan Alley as well as 1960s pop-rock and its new wave extensions. They’re full of long melody lines and smooth chromatic chord changes. In them he intertwines thoughts on music, career and love. “Words & Music” directly maps romance onto songwriting, while “Don’t Look Now” may be the only pop song to mention “recoupable royalties.”

But Mr. Lerche was too lighthearted and endearing to come across as a music-business whiner. He sounded affectionate even while he parsed art and life. After his last song he flamboyantly tossed his set list to the crowd, a reminder that he had an underlying plan.

- Jon Pareles, The New York Times, on the September 8th show at the Bowery Ballroom