Astrodome by Home Groan: A Timeless Trip Through Genres and Emotions
Let’s talk about Astrodome, the wild, genre-bending ride from Norwegian band Home Groan. Released in 1969 under ME Records, this album feels like a time capsule stuffed with everything—rock, folk, country, indie vibes, even some alt-country grit. It’s messy, it’s heartfelt, and honestly? That’s what makes it unforgettable.
First off, let me say this record isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for something polished or predictable, keep scrolling. But if you dig raw emotion wrapped up in layers of banjo twangs, electric guitar solos, and harmonies that sound like they were recorded on a cabin porch somewhere deep in Norway, then buckle up. This one’s special.
I gotta shout out two tracks that stuck with me long after the needle lifted: “Jack’s New England” and “Art of Surprise.”
“Jack’s New England” hits different. Like, really hits different. From the opening notes, Gunn Sølvi Gausemel’s hardingfele (a Norwegian fiddle) gives the track an eerie yet beautiful vibe. You can almost picture mist rolling over fjords while Martin Hagfors sings lyrics dripping with nostalgia. The horns courtesy of Jaga Jazzist sneak in later, adding this jazzy twist that catches you off guard—but not in a bad way. More like, “Wait…is this still the same song?” Yeah, dude, it is. And somehow, it works. There’s just something hauntingly human about it all.
Then there’s “Art of Surprise,” which lives up to its name. It starts simple enough—acoustic strumming, Hagfors’ voice warm and inviting—but don’t get too comfy. Around the halfway mark, Lars Håvard Haugen throws down some sitar action (on a ROCK SONG?!) and suddenly you’re questioning everything you thought you knew about music. By the end, when the mandolin kicks in, your brain might short-circuit. In the best possible way.
What strikes me most about Astrodome is how unapologetically weird it is. These guys didn’t care about fitting into boxes or pleasing critics. They made exactly the kind of music they wanted to make, blending instruments and styles like mad scientists. Even the credits read like a who’s who of quirky talent—banjo players, trumpet soloists, jazz horn sections, and someone literally credited as “Booking - Konsertbyrået.” Who does that?! Only people who know they’ve created something truly unique.
And hey, fun fact: Håkon Hoffart handled the artwork, and Union Design nailed the layout. So not only does this thing sound good, but it looks cool too. Props to them for making sure the visuals match the vibe.
So yeah, Astrodome. An album born in 1969, brimming with soul and chaos, held together by sheer passion. Listening to it feels like flipping through an old photo album—each track a faded Polaroid capturing moments you weren’t there for but somehow feel connected to anyway.
Here’s the kicker though: If aliens ever land and ask us humans to explain our musical history, I’d hand them this record without hesitation. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. Flaws and all.
Oh, and P.S.—if you find yourself humming “Klingers Blues” days later, don’t blame me. Blame Martin Hagfors. The guy writes earworms like it’s his job.
