Imagine being a fan of the Norwegian Doom Metal band 'Funeral' circa 2004; former vocalist Hanne Hukkelberg left the group the previous year to work on a solo album. If you enjoyed their 2002 album, 'In Fields of Pestilent Grief', you might have been looking forward to more of her dramatic vocals. What, then, would you have made of 'Little Things', her solo debut? You'd probably have been confused; instead of being epic and dramatic, it's intimate, warm and heartfelt.
After a short introduction in which Hanne scrapes a dish brush against a metal box, the album opens proper with 'Searching', and 'intimate' is a good word to describe it. 'Conspiratorial' is another; it's almost as if she's imparting a great personal secret to you. Instrumentally, the song is quite spare; a theremin, seemingly played in the manner of a steel guitar, a glockenspiel and a mandolin all make an appearance, but never in such a way as to feel too busy. Much like the introduction, the percussion consists largely of objects being scraped against other objects.
This theme of 'kitchen sink' percussion continues throughout the album, with pots and pans, wine glasses, a plastic bottle, bicycle spokes and curiously, eggs all being utilised. The instrumentation continues to offer up surprises, also; 'Little Girl' opens with a slightly discordant melody played on a Casio keyboard, and ends up sounding like a chaotic, disorganised skiffle band. But in a good way. 'Do Not As I Do', arguably the most accessible song on the album, echoes 'Searching's theremin by introducing an actual steel guitar, which serves as an interesting contrast to the track's jazz drums and Hanne's lounge singer vocals. 'True Love's initially disparate backing pulls itself together for a couple of beautifully melodic choruses, before dispersing again.
Hukkelberg's vocal style varies considerably from track to track; in 'Words & A Piece Of Paper' she is quiet and melancholy, humming a haunting chorus for the finale; in 'Ease' she is chipper and upbeat, singing from a male perspective with a certain false bravado; in the beautiful 'Cast Anchor' she manages to sound both warmly nostalgic and quietly yearning. Generally, however, she sounds like a jazz singer whispering into your ear from over your shoulder, and effectively sends a similar shiver down your spine.
On the whole, 'Little Things' is a confident and eclectic début, full of beautiful, heartfelt song-writing and unashamed either of its honesty or of its quirks. If you had been a fan of Norwegian Doom Metal in 2004, perhaps you would have been charmed in spite of your expectations.
