Presented by The Nashville House
Andreas Moss at Tellers Upstairs
Sweden is a land at the mercy of extremes. Breaching the Arctic Circle, the country is beholden to the sun, the moon and glacial winds; extended summers bathing the landscape in 16-hour daylight and long winters bringing 16-hour nights.
It’s no wonder that the nation is home to a cadre of creative pioneers; artists who exist in the interplay between darkness and light. For decades Sweden has garnered a reputation as a hothouse for artistic output ranging from the depths of black metal to Max Martin’s pop machine churning out a seemingly endless export of leftfield hits.
Born and raised in Sweden, Andreas Moss barely had a chance to choose music; rather, he inherited the family business. His parents, like theirs before them, were travelling musicians – by age nine, Moss was on tour, singing gospel tunes and navigating his way around the piano. Barely into his teens, Moss became a multi-faceted collaborator; a Swiss Army man of many talents, ghostwriting and directing music videos and short films for a growing community of artists.
It’s Moss’ solo outings, however, that really channel the extremes of his homeland; the 28-year old’s hook-heavy pop reveals a muse borne from a certain darkness. These aren’t breakup songs about the one that got away; they’re defiant farewells to the devil on your shoulder.
A catchy opening salvo that received over a million streams within a month of release, first single ‘Thinking About You’ puts a face on the intoxicating grip of addiction. Over club-ready clockwork beats Moss reminisces about the dark allure that chews you up and spits you out, leaving you pining for the buzz of that last hit. Though it was years ago, the feeling is as electric as if it were yesterday.
‘Stop Me’ cuts even quicker to the chase; a sinister, electric anthem about the cry for help that you never hear; that torn veil between the desire to self-destruct and the desperation for a helping hand. It’s a reminder that even within the depths of addiction, our better half is still searching for redemption.
It’s a catharsis set to soaring electronic landscapes, with Moss’ anthemic voice rising above giant beats and synth hooks.
“I hope it connects on different levels”, says the songwriter of his left-leaning pop, “I hope that people can musically and fall in love with it on a sonic level. I also hope that people who want to dig deeper can find something else; a dark history, the stories that are under all the songs – pain and hope in equal measures. I hope they can hear it and think ‘This guy gets how I feel.’”
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