Sunny and VILLIAM return with “10 000 meter”, a pulsing duet about falling headfirst, losing control, and the strange allure of simply giving in. 

Produced by Marcus Garbom and Mattias Edfast, the track builds on driving mid-tempo drums and shimmering synths. Think city nights, wet asphalt, white sneakers pop, a sound that is restless yet melodic, framed by an unmistakable forward motion.

Sunny (Sunny Björkén) grew up in Piteå, northern Sweden, and began writing songs in her teens. She  debuted in 2021 with “110”. Since then, she has released several singles and appeared both solo and as part of the VHS synth duo Febern, crafting music often described as the soundtrack to long nights and emotional rollercoasters: vivid, authentic, melancholic and direct.


10 000 meter

With Lost You, Swedish indie melancholics Loving Embers deliver a sound that is both intimate and full-bodied. Shimmering, guitar-driven pop blurred with dreamy textures, balancing fragility and strength. At the core are Fredrika Johansson’s bare, tip-of-the-iceberg lyrics, where what happens between the lines often cuts deeper than what’s spoken aloud. The chorus is a wordless melody. Proof that sometimes lyrics get in the way of emotion.

Lost You

Berg finns överallt. Tornande, överkomliga, fantasieggande och inbillade. Vid horisonten. Vid kanten av barndomens platser. Och inuti oss, som minnen, drömmar, ok och styrkor.

Från mitt berg, Vera Vinters nya album, är skrivet i mötet mellan dessa världar. Nio sånger där vardagen spricker upp och visar något större. En kaffekopp som ångar i solen. En cykel som kämpar uppför backen. Ett hjärta som rusar när vinden tar tag. Och bergen som följer oss in i natten, ut på krogen, där frihet och flykt krockar med det vi aldrig riktigt kan lämna.

Musiken är avskalad. Röst och gitarr i centrum. Utsmyckad med violin, cello, kantele, slagverk och körer. Enkelheten bär styrkan. Som en snäcka som bär havet i sitt skal rymmer några få ackord hela känslan av livets tyngd och lättnad.

Vera Vinter kommer från Stora Lappträsk utanför Kalix. I hennes sånger sjuder Norrbottens språk, människor och natur. Här möts indiepop och folkmusik, med spår av jojk och de dialekter och språk som fortfarande lever i norr. Efter fem album och samarbeten med Petra Marklund, Bo Kaspers Orkester och Staffan Hellstrand står hennes röst kvar som något eget, förankrat i hembygden men med blicken riktad långt bort.

Från mitt berg, producerad av Hanna Ekström och skapad i samarbete med BD Pop och Norrbottensmusiken, är ett album om att stanna, minnas och möta sitt ursprung. Men också om att kliva ut i det okända. Och bergen finns alltid kvar.

1992

Hejdå (“Goodbye”) is a quiet yet powerful debut from 18-year-old Greta Hällis, from Piteå in northern Sweden. The song captures the moment when someone has already moved on and you’re still standing there, learning to let go. Gentle chords, honest lyrics and a voice that feels both fragile and real.

Hejdå

Seasons

There’s a certain kind of pop song that doesn’t try to charm you so much as pull you in by sheer gravitational force. “Take What You Want,” the debut single from Swedish artist Klara Aldrin, is one of those. Produced with Max Savinc, it runs on distorted, syncopated synths buzzing like low-voltage electricity and a bassline that wobbles just enough to make the ground feel alive beneath it, all anchored by a steady beat that never loses its poise. 

It’s futuristic without being cold, emotional without ever turning sentimental. Aldrin sings like someone trying to stay in control while the room slowly starts to spin. Deliberate, all shades of cool, yet on the edge of something unstable. The result lands somewhere between Charli XCX’s chrome-pop urgency and Robyn’s late-night melancholy, filtered through that Scandinavian minimalism that makes every sound feel perfectly intentional. 

“Take What You Want” is understated electronic pop built from groove, precision and unfiltered confidence. Proof that you don’t have to shout to make the floor move.

Take What You Want

We all carry something, but the mountains look different for each of us. In Vera Vinter’s new single Jag bär mina berg (I Carry My Mountains), they appear in everyday moments: a steaming coffee cup, a bike straining uphill, a heart racing in the wind. And they follow us into the night – into the city, into the bars – where a fleeting sense of freedom collides with the weight of roots, memories and dreams that never quite let go.

Stripped back to voice and guitar, the song is as bare as a diary page. In its simplicity the mountains become clearer – both the ones we carry inside and the ones we try to leave behind. 

10 000 meter

bdpop