By Julia Weber, Features Editor

[Escho; 2024]

Rating: 8/10

Key Tracks: “Do you wanna”, “Give my all”, “Say you love me”

Danish artist Astrid Sonne’s new album is a lovely, fleeting collection of reflective and introspective moments in Sonne’s life. Great Doubt is the newest full length release from the artist, in which she carefully stitches together a patchwork of observations and considerations.

Totaling nine tracks, the album comes in at a runtime of just under 27 minutes, barely giving the listener time to settle into the project before it’s gone again. Great Doubt doesn’t demand questions of its listeners, but opens the door to conversation for those who want to engage.

Read more: Album Review: The Smile – Wall of Eyes

The opening track, “Light and heavy”, passes by like a patch of fog—so short you might not notice when it morphs into “Do you wanna”. “Do you wanna” is simultaneously amusing and ominous as Sonne vocalizes her uncertainty about having children and bringing people into the world. The track brings to light the overarching theme of the album as she repeats “I really don’t know” throughout the song.

“Give my all” delves further into the depths of doubt, uncertainty and distance. The chorus consists of Sonne proclaiming repeatedly “I’d give my all for your love” amid a woozy haze of keys and synthesizers.

There’s a duality on two levels in Great Doubt. The tracks alternate in pacing between fleeting, short tracks and built-up tracks that ruminate on the great doubt that the album is named for. Delicate, lighthearted tracks like “Light and heavy” and “Overture” balance out synth-heavy, intense tracks like “Boost” and “Everything is unreal”.

“Overture” serves as a reemergence from the depths of doubt, welcoming lulling, light strings and tender instrumentation that serves as a sonic manifestation of watching the clouds pass by. It’s a reminder that doubt is impermanent and a promise that we will get through it, together.

“Say you love me”, the closing track of the album, is Sonne’s one-sided conversation or inner monologue asking for confirmation of requited love. “Say that you love me, say that you want to hold me,” she says, layered over percussion and strings. The final song is unrushed and unhurried, serving as less of a plea and more of an observation for the listener to consider as the album comes to a close.

Sonne’s album comes out in a time of seemingly permanent brain fog and never quite knowing what day it is or when you last changed your sheets. Great Doubt poignantly marks a distinct moment of uncertainty and lack of clarity in our collective psyche, and if she isn’t offering clarity, she’s at least offering solidarity.

At times, Sonne’s album is more of a conscious practice of reflection or an exercise in mindfulness than it is a dedicated musical project. Great Doubt is a capturing, collecting and preserving of moments with seamless, effortless transitions. It’s a train-of-thought, stream-of-consciousness album but it doesn’t feel disjointed or disorganized.

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