How To Start A Garden: A Slight Fanatics Review

2. Sputnik

Sputnik is the shortest song on How To Start A Garden, but no less full of emotion. Nanna repeats the lines “how did we get here” and “I feel lost” which are such obvious signs of confusion and, obviously, being lost. This song doesn’t speak to me as much as some of the others on this album, but I am very intrigued by the imagery of black lemons, which Nanna repeats a few times, and the subject of the song has apparently given to her. After some (very brief) research, I found that black lemons are actually dried limes, and are very common in Persian cuisine. I will continue to ponder this every time I listen to this song.

On the other hand, if you consider the historical implications of the name, being launched into orbit and being in an entirely new place and lost. It makes sense, in a sad sort of way.

4. Disaster Master

Disaster Master, like Crybaby, was pre-released a few weeks ago. This song hits in all the right places of my brain and the acoustic guitar has a vague reminiscence to American country music, which makes it stand out. There are a few lyrics that really punch me in my emotional gut. “I’m addicted to disastrous thinking/ And I think that you are too,” is the first, which is in the chorus and thus repeated throughout the song. As someone who has struggled a lot with depression and self harm, disastrous thoughts are not uncommon in my head. Not to mention I always think the worst will happen, which is a whole different type of disastrous thinking.

Second, “Can I go off the path, find a breeze/ Start with nothing, start a garden/ The ghost and me” is a lyric I am considering getting tattooed. Well, specifically, the “start with nothing” part, but that is because it is short and sweet and relates to the rest of the line. The idea of having nothing and then making something, a garden, on your own with your ghosts and thoughts is so powerful to me. This lyric has been drawn all over my body multiple times already, it is on a piece of paper in my wallet, it has been watercolored on my wall. (not literally on my wall, but I watercolored it and then hung it on my wall).

Then there is the implications of the ghost. In more recent OMAM songs, as well as some of the other How To Start A Garden songs, the figure of a ghost is common. Usually the ghost is interpreted as either a “dead” version of self or someone that the singer has lost. Both of these interpretations are haunting and beautiful in their own right. For me, personally, I tend to think of the ghost as my ambitions or dreams that I have had to give up on, but I still carry with me. They help me just by existing, much like the first draft of a novel, they were so the real thing can thrive.

6. Godzilla

Godzilla was the first track to be released from How To Start A Garden, giving fans such as myself plenty of time to fall in love with it. Like many of the songs on this album, this song is slow and introspective, with strong vocals and heartbreaking lyrics. Godzilla swells as it progresses, leaving the listener growing with the song. This song repeats “be careful of your thoughts/ Ooh, and I could be sproutin’ right about now/ But I’m not, but you are not dirt” which to me feels like it is talking about the situations we are put in and the people we surround ourselves with, and how sometimes they are not right for us, even if “you’re rooting for me/ even when I’m not right.” This song holds a special place in my heart, as sometimes we have people around us who we love but are not the proper people to allow us to grow into our best and most true selves.

The introduction to this song is also quite powerful, as it references the midnight sun and the certain kind of sadness that can only be felt as the night passes, and you get sunburnt, and feel hollow but content at the same time. There is nothing that can compare to this feeling, and I thought I was along feeling it, but this song, and honestly this album, reflects the feeling like nothing I have ever seen or heard before.

8. Milk

Sweet and sad, Milk reflects on a broken connection. In this song, it feels as though Nanna is confessing that despite all the positive qualities (being sweet and soft) that “something isn’t right” and that maybe at another time this would work. Mentions of a veil imply a deeply committed romantic relationship, and the chorus shifts each time to change what isn’t feeling quite right, or what the singer is doing in an emotional response to the feeling of disconnect to the subject.

The opening and closing points both connect, that the subject to whom Nanna is singing is naïve and believes that they can push through this while Nanna knows that it is not meant to last. In the first chorus she sings that the subject has been “so sure of this,” while it has been weighing on her. Then, in the last iteration of the chorus, the subject reappears “Rose-colored in the disarray,” rose-colored being a symbol of their idealistic view on their relationship.

10. Voyager

Voyager has so many illusions to the ocean, from the name, to the repetition of “deep diving, fishing for trouble,” to the slow rolling guitars in the backing track. And on top of that, there are literal references to outer space, a different kind of expanse that feels so similar in so many respects.

There is a sort of haunting reflection of the words Nanna is singing in the background, they sound sort of young and are almost at the edge of the song, making me wonder if I imagined them the first time I listened to Voyager. Pairing with the songs theme of staying stoic, the child-like plea to not go creates a strong contrast and makes the listener feel more deeply the confusion and instability of the singer.

1. How To Start A Garden

In a style very reminiscent of opening Of Monsters And Men tracks, this song starts off slow and builds to lyrics. I am obsessed with this song already. “Suddenly I hear a creaking at the door/ and I don’t know if I live here anymore” is a lyric that sticks with me in particular, reminding me of OMAM’s song Visitor. I personally struggle a lot with the concept of “home,” having moved countries to start a new live. In some senses, the States are my home because I grew up there, but Iceland is my home because I chose to live here and cultivate my life here. This line reminds me of when I visit the states, where I grew up and have so many memories and family, but I don’t really belong. This song is quiet and emotional, speaking to those who have lost people or belonging. How to Start A Garden, the song, talks about starting a garden in the literal and metaphorical sense. Starting a garden with someone can be working together to build something that grows and nourishes you both in so many different senses.

3. Crybaby

Crybaby was the second song off How To Start A Garden to be released, as a pre-album single, and so I have had some more time to listen and meditate on this song than most of the others. First, Nanna has already released a music video for this song, which I am obsessed with, and uhhhh, brings back middle school-like gay crush feelings. (Sorry, not very professional but very true). This song is moody and dark, starting off with the lines “Do you love me?/ I can take it” and going on to “All the very best of me/ Was given to the dogs in the street/ Well, I don’t have a problem/ With crawling on fours.” Crybaby is direct, stating that “I don’t have a problem with being alone,” which feels so in contrast to the opening, asking if the subject loves her.

Anyway, this song has strong bass and electric guitar, which pairs perfectly with the moody, and honestly unsettling, lyrics. The image of crawling on all fours because the best parts of you have been abandoned is frightening. Additionally, the idea of being so upfront and direct with someone, straight up asking if they love you, and if it hurts them as much as it hurts you, that takes a certain kind of emotional energy and fearlessness that I don’t think I have.

5. The Vine

The Vine reminds me of a folk song or a nursery rhyme. It is slow and sweet, referencing a tangled set of lovers becoming one being. It has a lot of strong imagery that is repeated through the rest of the album, such as flora (vines) and natural phenomena (cliffs, ocean). I appreciate the swelling of this song, with a simple piano with what sounds to me like a double bass in the back, pairing with the sweet and twinkling lead vocals and the fuzzy warm background singers.

7. Bloodclot/ Andvaka

To start, andvaka is a really interesting Icelandic word. It has a few meanings, one of which is “short of breath,” but it can also mean “panting/gasping” and finally “insomnia.” Obviously, they can all be medical, as a bloodclot is, but are so very different than a bloodclot. Upon listening to the song, I believe that Nanna was going for the “insomnia” definition, first it is the “most correct” translation, the literal meaning being an-dvaka, un-drowsy. On the other hand, I am pretty sure (don’t quote me on this, I am not a linguistics person) that the gasp/out of breath translation comes from the noun andardráttur, meaning breath, which was then slangified into breath-waking.

The song, however, is breath-taking and so it also fits to call it such. Bloodclot/ Andvaka has more powerful drums and bass than a lot of other songs on this album, making it pulse and spill with power. This song is a lot about loss while still being together, as Nanna sings “And I miss you every day now/ I had no idea you would stick around/ If I put myself through all of this, then I must love you” which even has the very powerful question of what exactly is love, and how do we know when we are in it? The idea of putting oneself through turmoil for someone else is compelling, but at the same time it begs the question if the pain is worth the return.

In another striking line, Nanna sings “If you can see through me, how can you love me?” which is a question that so many people struggle with. This song is, therefore, not simply struggling with a potentially long distance love, but also self love and love from within. As someone who has a lot of self image struggles, it hits hard to hear someone I really admire repeating my same worries.

9. Igloo

I am baffled and in love with the opening of this song: “I know you must hate me now/ I kind of hate me too, so it’s alright/ At least we’re on the same page,” which feels perfectly in line with the slightly bouncy but still mellow instruments behind it. This song is beautiful like the snow fall, sad but slightly playful by talking about how the car she is in is like a snow globe where she is secluded from the rest of the world, and how misery loves company so despite the loneliness and not wanting to see the subject (I miss talking to you/ But I need a bit of space, maybe outer space/ Send me on a rocket to the moon”) she asks them to stay the night.

The chorus is similarly striking, saying “Well, there is nothing new under the sun/ Although I don’t think I’ve met anyone like you, like you/ But I just got used to all this pain/ So don’t ask me to do this again for you, for you” which repeats the theme from this album that the subject of these songs is so unique and amazing, but just not a perfect fit. Nanna is begging that the subject not make her fall again, as she is trying to get over the beauty and memories they have together.

11. Seabed

Coming once again to the ocean and the trees, Seabed is filled with longing for physical comfort. my absolute favorite part of this song, however, is the outro. It is sung in Icelandic, which I have only heard Nanna do in two other songs (Öll þessi ást (all this love), gleym mér ei (forget me not)). She sings about finally coming home, something she has referenced in other songs, and walking past draugakórinn (the ghost chorus) which has hauntingly beautiful implications.

The chorus of Seabed talks about being lost in a meadow around the subjects house, which creates a beautiful pairing with the other imagery in this song, such as a bed of peat, a warm hole as the snow comes in, and a stark contrast to the subject who is referred to as an ocean floor. This song feels like walking through a wooded clearing as the sun shines through a snowstorm. Gentle, a warm jacket as the snow sticks to your eyelashes. A beautiful outro to an emotional album.