Alright, buckle up, folks. Let’s talk about Du Kan Alltid Lita På Pojkarna Over 35 by Paul Sahlin & Bjarne Lundqvist Sawes. This little gem from 1987 is one of those albums that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It’s not flashy or loud—it’s just... real. Like sitting in a cozy cabin somewhere in Scandinavia with a cup of coffee that’s gone lukewarm but still hits the spot.
First off, let me say this: folk music doesn’t always get its due respect. People think it’s all fiddles and sad songs about lost sheep, right? Wrong. This album proves otherwise. Sure, it falls under Folk, World, & Country (yeah, they really lumped those together), but there’s something timeless here. You can tell these guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel—they were just making honest music for people who appreciate simplicity. And honestly? That’s refreshing as hell.
Now, onto the tracks. The title track, "Du Kan Alltid Lita På Pojkarna Over 35"—which roughly translates to “You Can Always Trust the Boys Over 35”—is an absolute earworm. I mean, how could you not love a song that feels like hanging out with your favorite uncle? It’s got this warm, laid-back vibe that makes you wanna kick back and forget your troubles. The melody sticks to you like syrup on pancakes, and the lyrics have this quirky charm that reminds me of inside jokes at family gatherings. When I hear this track, I picture old dudes in flannel shirts laughing over beers. It’s wholesome, man. Pure wholesomeness.
Then there’s "Golden Gate." Oh boy, where do I even start? This one feels like staring at the horizon while driving down some dusty road. There’s a twangy guitar riff running through it that gives me goosebumps every time. It’s kinda bittersweet—you know, like remembering summers that flew by too fast. What gets me most is how raw it feels. No fancy production tricks, no autotune nonsense. Just pure emotion pouring out of every note. If this song doesn’t make you want to grab someone you care about and hug them tight, then maybe check your pulse?
The whole thing was released under Mariann International, which sounds like the kind of label that would throw wild parties in tiny Scandinavian towns. But seriously, props to them for putting out stuff like this back in the day. Albums like this remind us why music matters—it connects people across cultures and generations, even if no one speaks the same language.
So yeah, listening to Du Kan Alltid Lita På Pojkarna Over 35 feels like finding an old postcard tucked away in a drawer. It’s nostalgic yet new, simple yet profound. Honestly, I didn’t expect to dig it this much when I first hit play. Now, I can’t stop humming along whenever it pops up on my playlist.
Random thought to leave you with: If this album were a person, it’d probably be that chill friend who shows up late to parties but ends up being the life of the night. Cheers to Paul and Bjarne for crafting something so effortlessly cool.
