Sometimes, you come across an artist purely by chance. You’ll have heard nothing about them – and so get to experience that rare feeling of “no expectations”. It makes a positive discovery all the more pleasurable. That’s been my experience since I stumbled across the music of Snoh Aalegra on Twitter: the pleasure just keeps unfolding.
The name sounds like a vowel-heavy selection of tiles in Scrabble, but Snoh Aalegra is actually a Swedish singer-songwriter of Persian descent (she was signed to a label by the age of 14). She is, in a word… smoky. It’s the overarching theme of her mini-album, Don’t Explain: everything feels filtered through cigarette smoke. Her voice carries its own particular weight, but it’s impossible to hear the work of Aalegra and not think of a certain other bluesy dark-haired singer called Amy Winehouse.
The comparison is valid, down to the inspirations (Sarah Vaughan for Winehouse; Billie Holiday for Aalegra). But there’s a crucial difference: Aalegra sounds hopeful. She occupies even her darker lyrics more shallowly than Winehouse did – and that’s not a criticism. In fact, it adds to the drama of her songs, to think that she is playing a part, of a sad lover (as in her cover of Holiday’s Don’t Explain), or a lovestruck teen (as in Charleville 9200). On Home, she sounds vulnerable when she sings: “I’ve been homeless, hopeless with no address/till my heart, you chose,” and you feel the joy beneath the bleakness. Aalegra’s voice makes me feel like a film noir heroine. In a year that feels more than a little desolate, it’s exactly what I need.
