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.

Sjung din sång

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. 

Jag bär mina berg

Neon Red

It begins with a sound. A slow grinding beneath the surface, as if the mountain itself were breathing.

Far up in the north, the entire city of Kiruna is being moved. Neighborhoods disappear, houses and offices are lifted from their foundations, and the church is slowly rolled away in front of visiting TV crews while the mining company keeps digging deeper into the ground.

In Tills marken blir vår igen (“Until the Ground Is Ours Again”), Ella Sikku sings from the quiet space between progress and grief, where childhood streets turn into frost-cracked ghost avenues. She moves between Nordic alt-pop and electronic melancholy, her voice gliding through ice-blue synthscapes and muted beats, calm yet unyielding, with a pervasive sense of quiet resistance. Because what else can you do when home isn’t where it used to be?

Tills marken blir vår igen

In a sound that evokes neon reflections on wet asphalt and the static hum of a tape machine, Josef Love finds his true self. Open Wide is the sound of him scraping the polish off his old grooves, where neo-soul collides with old-school hip-hop, driven by live, dusty instrumentation that breathes, bleeds, and sometimes limps.

Recorded at Bagarstudion in Luleå with producer Frithiof Stenvall, Open Wide feels like something that could have leaked from a late-night basement session. It’s raw, magnetic, and just unhinged enough to feel dangerous, chasing groove and imperfection instead of symmetry.

“I wanted it to feel alive, rather than perfect,” Josef says. “That’s where it stops being sound and starts being music.”

The lyrics urge honesty: open your heart, your mind, show your wounds, and be present.

You may have seen him on TV, on tour, or on stage with brass bands and choirs. But this is different — looser, dirtier, more human. The true Josef Love, stripped of gloss and other people’s expectations.

Open Wide

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