Over the past five years, Elderbrook has become a name synonymous with pushing the boundaries of tech house. Approaching dance music with a singer-songwriter sensibility, what Elderbrook actually does is craft a vision of contemporary folk music. Deeply emotive, sometimes pensive, but always beautiful, Elderbrook’s music takes shape as anecdotes inspired by the process of living and learning. Since last year, one experience in particular seemed to be dominating that inspiration – fatherhood. So coming to his new album Little Love, while it might sound like not much has changed, in many ways, absolutely everything has. Elderbrook’s sonnets, most often professions of love and lust addressed to lovers and objects of infatuation, are instead addressed to someone new on this album: his children. Take Howl, where he professes “little love, you really turned my life around,” against shimmering, revelatory synths and a buoyant house beat, speaking to his baby daughter. On I’ll Be Around, he pledges his forever to her, as the track bleeds straight into the optimistic keys of Little Love (Little Interlude), painted with the little giggles and gurgles of the little love in question.
The subject matter stands in contrast to the subjects at the core of his greatest hits; the heartbreak of Numb, the quiet horror of Cola. Though looking back at Innerlight, Elderbrook has been hinting toward this sort of epiphany. On Broken Mirror, he confessed, “I wanna burn it, rip off my disguise / And I’m a different person every night.” In many ways, Little Love does just that. It rips the disguise off an artist who originally posited himself as an enigmatic, almost voyeuristic, presence on the dancefloor. This album is the heartwarmingly satisfying conclusion of the journey that began with Why Do We Shake In The Cold?, each body of work since offering a look into the personal evolution of Elderbrook. It’s a testament to his songwriting. Looking over his discography, it’s alarming how incredibly personal these songs are. Each one is like Elderbrook sharing a new secret with you in confidence, and the narrative arc that appears is one that very honestly and intimately shares the story of his life, colas and all. It makes sense then that while thematically different, Little Love doesn’t evolve Elderbrook much sonically speaking. The music here is still that sort of grandiose, slow building melodic house realised in chiaroscuro, its shadows as deep as its bass. Though spend some time with Little Love, and you’ll see that Elderbrook is letting the light in more than ever before. This is without a doubt his brightest work to date.
Download and stream Little Love here
Tonally, things are still moody AF. But this time he pours soda over the whiskey to fill the glass of Little Love with an exuberant effervescence that sparkles through every track. It’s in the upward facing arpeggios on Wasted On You, a title that might have suggested something much darker for earlier Elderbrook but here, describes feeling overcome and drunk on joy. It’s on the giddy, happy-go-lucky bounce of Tied To You, or the energetic touches borrowed from rave and eurodance that lend their euphoria to the soundscape of Little Love as a whole. Even its darkest moment, the striking I Need You, casts obsession as a romantic lead you can’t help but root for. Sometimes, he enlists help to achieve this. Some are more successful than others. The inclusion of Tourist on the album’s thesis statement Howl fuses the nostalgic poptimism synonymous with Tourist’s work to Elderbrook’s signature style. On the other hand, the breeziness of Vintage Culture is consumed by the weight of Talk It Over.
But while the optimism allows Elderbrook to explore new shades and dynamics in his sound, everything still feels stuck in minor key. These sound like versions of songs we’ve heard him sing before, and that familiarity risks muddying the experience of Little Love. It’s a shame, because beyond the exterior, these are some of his most earnest lyrics to date, their honesty finally allowing Elderbrook’s instinct for emotion to not sound forced or clouded by sentiment. That Little Love doesn’t stray too far from the Elderbrook formula as we know makes an intriguing case for considering the artist’s three major works as one collective whole. Taken this way, Little Love signals the beginning of a shift; the closing of this story, and the promise of another. Joy looks good on Elderbrook, as does that whole spectrum of colour it adds to his sonic palette. Whatever comes next will see an Elderbrook equipped with a full toolbox of sounds, experiences, and emotions. Here’s hoping he uses them to sculpt something new altogether.
Listen to Howl from Little Love below.
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