CD: Mirel Wagner - When The Cellar Children See The Light Of Day

Sparse compositions from Finnish songwriter's haunted pen

share this article

Mirel Wagner: "something properly eldritch and awesome and strange"

I feel as though most recording artists are missing a trick when it comes to seasonal albums. Although the market for Christmas albums is - as we demonstrate here on theartsdesk annually - a growth one, there are thousands of themes out there waiting to be explored. Easter. Eid. That one Wednesday in July when the weather in Glasgow rivals that of the Med and you can only watch in envy from your office window. For her second album, Finnish singer-songwriter Mirel Wagner has produced something not unlike a Halloween album. Not the Halloween of popular culture, cutesy with cartoon ghouls and sacks of sweets, but something properly eldritch and awesome and strange.

Faced only with the title, opening track “1 2 3 4” could be a nursery rhyme but, although Wagner’s voice takes on a certain sing-song cadence in its opening lines, the sparse baseline that accompanies her words hints at something more sinister at play. In tones that sound not unlike the creaking of the cellar door her album is named for, Wagner is at once the creepy successor to whatever Tom Waits was building in there and the crone next door, scaring schoolchildren away from the secrets of the abandoned house. And that’s only track one: although the compositions rarely get more complex than the lower strings of a sparsely strummed, barely tuneful acoustic guitar they hint at melody and create atmosphere while Wagner’s vocals skirt playfully the line between knowing and childlike.

The more nuanced tracks - something almost approaching a full-on melody line in “Oak Tree”; the shimmer of cello that underpins the closing stanzas of “Ellipsis”; the unexpectedly bright major key and lingering reverb of “My Father’s House” - are interesting, but the sheer simplicity of Wagner’s songs is what makes them so arresting. Not so much as a breath is wasted here, artistic flourishes deemed unnecessary. Aptly-titled album closer “Goodbye”, on which Wagner adopts the tone of a ghostly Piaf mid-Wurlitzer death waltz, lays it on as thick as it gets - after it fades out, don’t be surprised if the silence seems comforting.

Overleaf: watch the video for "The Dirt"


Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
Not so much as a breath is wasted here

rating

4

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing! 

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a great deal, and hope you do too.

To take a monthly subscription now simply click here.

Or
Why not take an annual subscription and save a third off our monthly price simply click here.

more new music

An eardrum damaging evening spent with Birmingham’s Sunn O))) worshippers
Trio with Gene Calderazzo and Alec Dankworth is a jewel of British jazz
Madonna and Stuart Price concoct a set that's bangin' and occasionally affecting
Boundaries not broken, but extraordinary interlocked playing, on the quintet's fourth album
The follow-up to comeback album 'Hackney Diamonds' is a raucous, joyful late-period classic
US freak-rockers exhume their final album of supreme bizarreness
An entertaining second album full of feminist fun and lethal put-downs
Making the case for wading through a hotchpotch of archive releases
Big disco balls and explosive affirmation make the stadium trio more ludicrous than ever
With no Glastonbury Festival 2026, our intrepid reporter offers us mementos and tall tales