In the quiet town of Southern Sweden, Carl Liungman sits at a Steinway grand piano, delicately letting each note tell a story that reflects his inner world. His latest album, Change, released on August 30th, invites us to journey with him through deeply personal experiences of loss and renewal. This album is not just music but an emotional dialogue transcending words, capturing the complexities of grief, love, and resilience. Personally, the album resonated on a deeply intimate level, almost as if Liungman’s compositions were soundtracks to universal moments we all experience at some point in our lives. Known for crafting emotive, improvisational music, Carl delivers a deep collection of nine piano pieces that explore life’s most fragile and transformative moments with “Change”. Let’s delve into this, as Carl doesn’t seem to seek applause as a performer but as an artist using music to process and express profound emotions.
The album opens with “Mother,” a piece that feels like a tender tribute. As Liungman’s fingers glide over the keys, the melody is delicate yet weighted with the sorrow of impending loss. The piece is a tender conversation between nostalgia and the acceptance of time slipping away. I found myself imagining memories replaying like soft, hazy home videos. Each note is infused with love but tinged with the sadness of knowing the past cannot be revisited. Liungman’s piano technique is so nuanced that the silences between notes feel just as significant as the music itself.
In contrast, “After” brings a sense of quiet reflection, a meditative acceptance of what comes after loss. The pacing is slow, each note drawn out as if Liungman is carefully considering the space between grief and healing. This song feels like the moment after a storm when the world is still, allowing for introspection. Here, the soft yet deliberate touch on the keys invites us to breathe in this calmness, despite the emotional depth of the song.
The third song, “Final Days” feels heavier, as if Liungman is pulling us into the final moments of something beautiful but inevitable. There’s a sense of urgency in the piece, conveyed through its more pronounced rhythm and dynamics, yet it is never overbearing. You can feel Liungman’s expertise as he expertly builds tension only to release it with a gentle touch, creating a cathartic experience. The imagery I was left with was that of the final breaths of someone dear, lingering in the air before fading into silence.
But hey, the album doesn’t dwell solely on sorrow. “Hope,” as its title suggests, offers a much-needed reprieve. The melodies here are bright and uplifting, capturing the resilience of the human spirit. Liungman’s pacing becomes a bit more animated, the notes dancing lightly as if reminding us that there is always light, even in the darkest times. Listening to this track, I felt a sense of rejuvenation, a reminder that life continues, carrying the promise of new beginnings.
One of the standout tracks for me is “Wind In June.” It feels like a warm breeze on a summer day, playful and free, yet still deeply introspective. The production here is brilliant, capturing the natural brightness of the Steinway Grand in a way that feels intimate as if you’re sitting in the very room with Liungman. The notes flow effortlessly, each one glistening with clarity, reflecting the refined touch of both Liungman and his producer, Carl Granberg. It’s a track that lets you stay in the present moment, much like a gentle gust of wind carrying the scent of flowers.
With “Father,” Liungman returns to the theme of loss but with a different energy. This piece has a grounded strength to it, reflecting perhaps the stoic presence of a father figure in his life. The melody feels less delicate than in “Mother,” more resolute as if it’s acknowledging the inevitability of change with quiet dignity. The pacing, once again, is masterful—unhurried, yet purposeful, offering a sense of peace that comes with understanding and acceptance.
In “Survivor,” the pace quickens, embodying the resilience of the human spirit. The rhythmic intensity of the piece mirrors the struggles faced, yet there is an underlying current of triumph. Liungman’s adept use of dynamics infuses the music with a sense of urgency, propelling us forward with each note. It’s a powerful reminder that life’s challenges can shape us into who we are meant to be.
The soothing melodies continue with “Peaceful,” where the atmosphere shifts once more, enveloping us in a serene embrace. This piece feels like a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the world. Liungman’s artistry shines as he creates a soundscape that resonates with tranquility, allowing moments of introspection and calm. The production captures the resonance of the Steinway Grand, enhancing the emotional impact of each note
Finally, we arrive at the title track, “Change,” which closes the album on a reflective and forward-looking note. This song encapsulates the entire journey that the album represents, moving through moments of uncertainty and pain toward a place of transformation and, ultimately, peace. The production here is particularly notable, allowing the natural acoustics of the Malmo Art Museum to add a sense of space and depth, enhancing the emotional weight of the piece. Each note feels intentional as if Liungman is carefully placing each one to guide us through our reflection on change.
As a whole, “Change” is an album that invites us to sit with our emotions, to reflect on the cyclical nature of life and how we navigate loss and renewal. Carl Liungman’s skill as a pianist is undeniable, but what makes this album truly special is the way he uses his instrument to create a deeply personal, emotional experience for those of us listening. It’s an album that doesn’t just showcase technical proficiency. It offers a space for healing, reflection, and ultimately, hope.
Listen to the “Change” album on Spotify or SoundCloud
Follow Carl Liungman here for more information.
