Sometimes one of the worst things to happen is a region-based releases. Sure, with a foreign artist it make a lot more sense since making your music available everywhere involves significant hoop-jumping but it can cause a brilliant album to fall by the wayside. Case in point is Let The Dog Drive Home, the fifth studio album from Faroese singer/songwriter Teitur. Those abroad had the album for almost an entire year before it arrived on US shores at the very beginning of this year which almost made me forget about the album entirely. And what a real shame that would've been.
Since my first listen to Poetry & Airplanes, Teitur has held a special places as probably one of the most underrated songwriters plying their trade. Maybe that has to do with Teitur Nordic residence but there's been plenty of Scandinavians and the like who've been equally talented and properly successful despite not living here. Sondre Lerche for instance. Or even First Aid Kit. No, the reason Teitur isn't more beloved can only be because he hasn't reached more ears. Hopefully Let The Dog Drive Home can change that. It's a sort of return to form for Teitur, reaching levels of charm, emotiveness, and lyrical poignancy that I hadn't really felt since his debut (the aforementioned Poetry & Airplanes). Tracks like "Waverly Place" and "Freight Train" are almost classic Teitur, featuring the sparse instrumentation and emotional stirring tenor present in his most powerful tracks without sounding like rehashing of whatever worked last time. The stories are new as "Freight Train" percolates with barely concealed regrets, "Let the Dog Drive Home" cruises casually by steeped in metaphor, and the wide majority of Let The Dog Drive Home's tracks slipped into crisp pop dressings of an entirely different beast than albums past.
Melancholic but not depressing, On Let The Dog Drive Home, Teitur shares the kind of life lessons it takes considerable ages to learn. Considering Teitur's rather youthful countenance, it'd seem almost disingenuous if the man weren't the picture of sincerity. That and he grounds this rather big life-changing realizations in a relatable manner whether they be in the form of stories of drinking ("All I Remember From Last Night Is You" or even cozy Bacharachian arrangements ("Very Careless People") allowing Teitur's ruminations to feel more like sound friendly advice than professional, sagely opinion.
Get a taste of Teitur's excellent album with the music video for "Freight Train":
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