AURORA - The Gods We Can Touch Review
Heaven and hell, beware, Aurora comes back as a rightful ruler of both.
What if the gods live closer to us than we would ever imagine? There’s a chance they do as Aurora in her fourth studio album proves. Norwegian enchantress brings us a pantheon of pagans, Greek divinities and Christian mythology so we can realise that all that’s holy is within us. ‘The Gods We Can Touch’ marries sacred and scary to the spectacular piano, synth-symphonies, occasional 90s pop bops and heart-opening lyrics.
Foreshadowed by an instrumental intro ‘The Forbidden Fruits Of Eden,’ the opening track ‘Everything Matters’, a feature with French singer Pomme, is an ode to the serenity found in the simple moments: in twirls, the split seconds before the storm and love’s bliss. Little miracles are what life is composed of and if we keep on missing them, we’d never appreciate the big ones. Like the Prometheus story that inspired ‘Giving In To The Love’, a track of grander theatrics. It’s a expose to the game of expectations and no affection that modern society pressures us to play to the external gratification. Look inside instead, Aurora asks. ‘Cure For Me’, inspired by the struggle of the LGBTQ+ community and forced conversion therapy, unexpectedly turns into a Madonna-like flashy disco alley. It’s a cry-cross-celebration of self-love and perfect irregularities. The tone continues in ‘Heathens’, one of the most outstanding and spirit-lifting songs in Aurora’s catalogue so far. Here she lifts the curse that Christians put on Eve as a sinner and praises her as the one who dares to give humans free will. It’s an ode to her as Mother Earth and a remainder that we need a spiritual connection with her to be whole. In ‘Artemis’ Aurora brings back to life another side of the divine feminine, this time an ancient goddess of wild animals and virgin hunter. It’s a portrait of a savage daughter capable of taking over the throne to the composition of folky strings.
The strongest theme running in the veins of the album is the game of contrasts, the duality of human nature and the often-impossible distinction between dark and light, good and evil. ‘A Dangerous Thing’ encompasses this dialogue and warns against falling for illusions as she fleshes out the toxic dynamic, ‘Something about you is warm and seductive, and/ When you're with me you're cold and abusive’. Navigating between the shades of life is tricky so Aurora puts pointers across the album. In case we ever get lost, we’d know what we must look for, to begin with. The answer is always love. It shines brightest through the veil of ‘Exist For Love’, a supernatural ballad that’s subtle enough to charm us in simple words, miraculously avoiding falling into cliches but smoothly into our ears. Goosebumps.
‘Blood In The Wine’ tears our numbed comfort-zone covered shield as it starts with a battle cry-like scream. It’s followed by a few words that in their honesty capture the raw, minimalistic beauty of being, ‘I was given a heart before I was given a mind’, sonically reminding of Florence Welch’s when dealing a wild child card. The rebellious spirit calms down at the end on ethereal ‘This Could Be A Dream’ and ‘A Little Place Called The Moon’.
Recorded in a castle in Rosendal, converted into a temporary studio, the album sounds like the gods did come down from the clouds and other realms to Aurora’s hideaway. While crowed a warrior queen by her cult followers long ago, only now it feels like she’s a full-realised force to be reckoned with. She’s finally strong enough to become a medium herself and teach us how to capture divinity in ourselves. On ‘The Gods We Can Touch’ Aurora invites us to ascend to the land of deities with her. Don’t expect to meet the Greek pantheon there but your next-door neighbour. In Aurora’s universe, everything’s sacred. It’s ever-inspiring.