The Secret Chord -Generation X

Review by Karl Magi

Overall Album Impressions

The Secret Chord’s Generation X combines nostalgia, brooding darkness, blossoming hope and a memory of difficult times that may serve us in good stead as the world changes again. This album blends strong vocal performances, intelligently written lyrics and a musical atmosphere that mingles memory, danger and hope in a richly woven whole. I enjoy the way this album transports me while still remaining grounded in the realities and challenges we face.

One of the first features that drew me toward Generation X is the atmosphere it creates. The way it mingles shadow, memory and a desire for change with richly layered synth sounds creates a feeling of nostalgia, cut through by the gritty realities of the world. As a whole, I find that it carries me to another realm while reminding me of what's happening in the world today.

Another reason for my enjoyment of Generation X is the way in which the vocalists add weight and depth with their performances. I enjoy the spoken-word German lyrics that NINA delivers, along with Ollie Wride’s soulful performance on “Daniel.” Ida Trosell and Joakim Paulsson also have compelling voices. Each performer has a unique sound and carries the moods and sensations of the words and music as the album unfolds.

I find the lyrics on Generation X compelling. They explore the days of the Cold War, love and loss and the current world situation. The words are well-chosen, painting strong imagery and making a statement about freedom, oppression and finding hope in the face of challenges. The lyrics are both painful and uplifting throughout the album.

The way the synth sounds, guitar and percussion combine creates music that can be gentle or brooding, filling the music with a 1980s vibe that still feels fresh due to modern production and subtle twists that elevate the overall feel of the album. The lushness and expressiveness captivate me.

My Favourite Songs Analyzed

“Dreamers” comes to life as rapidly pulsating, sharply cutting synth gleams with flaring incandescence while the drums and bass kick into a classic 1980s groove. Dark synth rises and misty clouds as the angular, bright pulse continues to tumble and the drums and bass punch forward. Joakim Paulsson’s production weaves reverent choral notes that climb as densely glistening synth carries a catchy and uplifting melody, tinged by darkness. A flaring synth rises with the melody as the dramatic low end moves below.

NINA's spoken word German segment adds a mixture of coldness and nostalgia before Ida Trosell’s expressive voice calls out. The melody she carries is rich with emotive expression as NINA's voice intertwines with hers, adding a compelling counterpoint, while the spoken word parts add darkness.

In the distance, shining synth gleams as Ida Trosell’s touching voice rises, the chorus mixing warmth and shade as the drums continue to pulse. I enjoy the way the song captures innocence and danger in an intoxicating mix.

Chimes glitter as NINA's chanting voice calls out before Ida Trosell delivers the song's lyrics with deep feeling. A synth flickers as the low end surges with ominous intensity. The chorus rises again, suffusing the music with pained luminosity. The drums thunder in a steady heartbeat as the chiming notes flash again. The driving low end tumbles as the drums kick, cutting while rough-edged synth grows and lucid notes shine. The guitar is feverishly lustrous and carries a melody that soars and grabs my heart while the drums continue to rebound. There's a soulful richness in the guitar that I find enjoyable before the song ends.

The first narrator, speaking in German, says, "We were the children of the Cold War, caught in the middle," before the second narrator adds that they were the dreamers. She speaks of "tyranny on our doorstep, baby," while the first narrator points out that they were young and didn’t have a clue, adding, "Our parents must have been afraid." The second narrator asks, "Father, do you think they'll drop the bomb?" Now, the German-speaking narrator describes a tug-of-war between the superpowers of communism and capitalism.

Our main storyteller speaks of "fear of the Eastern sun though the day is done," while the second narrator talks about "radioactivity for me and you," adding that she's rising up. The main storyteller goes on to say that Chernobyl made them fear the end of the world was coming, adding, "We never realized how bad it was, blissfully unaware of the game behind the scenes." She recalls how, while they rode their bikes around in their "safe suburbia," the Navy was hunting Soviet subs in the Swedish archipelagos.

The second narrator says that Berlin was the center of the Cold War and, even though they were caught in the middle, they were the dreamers. The first narrator talks about songs that told stories about the world's end, while the second narrator references "99 balloons on their way to the horizon," like one of the songs that became an anthem for their generation. The German-speaking narrator mentions Reagan and the Warsaw Pact, while, as children, "Peter's Pop-Show made us happy."

Our main storyteller says, "We gathered in our basements, baby," before the second narrator points out that Sweden wasn’t as neutral as it seemed—it always looked to the West. As fighter jets flew overhead, the first storyteller repeats that they had no idea how bad it was. They remained unaware of what was unfolding behind the scenes as they rode their bikes through suburbia. The song concludes with the main storyteller again mentioning the Navy hunting Soviet subs and finishing with, "It was a silent storm."

Quickly rippling chimes twinkle as the drums pound with dynamism to kick off “Generation X”. Triumphant yet melancholy chords shift as the rough-edged, glimmering synth carries a frolicking melody with a feathery touch. The drums trip along as Ida Trosell’s voice calls out with a melody that dreams and hurts, leavened by nostalgia.

The vocals slip by with caressing easiness as the lambent synth skips along with a melody that drifts with uplifting feeling. Both singers bring their voices together now, Joakim Paulsson’s deeper tones supporting the moving strength of Ida Trosell’s voice.

The drums rebound in freewheeling zeal as the sparkling synth suffuses the background. Now a minor key tinge touches the melody as the chords jump with effulgence and the drums continue to pulsate. In the distance, the glittering synth trickles and now the potent drums explode with the gruff yet brilliant synth as the chorus rings out with memory and hope before the song ends.

The storyteller reflects on a time of "the CIA, the KGB and the Red Machine," describing it as a "silent fight for supremacy." She goes on to say that it was "a golden age but an age of decadence," and that things had to change.

Our narrator points out that they were kids in Generation X and felt so free growing up. She adds, "We were raised on MTV, wondering what life was like on the other side," and if those on the other side also dreamed of world peace and democracy.

Now, the storyteller adds that although they were kids, they were still aware and believed the world should be a better place. She goes on to say, "We saw the impact of Live Aid, people on barricades because they wanted change and to be free again."

“Checkpoint Charlie” begins as staticky radio transmission sounds are joined by evenly throbbing drums and a guitar drives with shadowy energy above the electric bass. A gently lit synth carries an enigmatic and mournful melody as the drums continue to shape the music. The guitar intertwines with insistent motion as the low end pushes on.

Ida Trosell captures the sense of being trapped and full of the need to fulfill her ultimate goal as the drums continue to drive forward. As the chorus leaps out, Ida Trosell cries out with pained expression as the low end adds shape. The guitar swirls and supports the vocals as they drift with loss and despair while glossy notes interweave and sparkle. The electric bass adds dynamism as both singers call out.

The darkness in the guitar adds weight while Ida Trosell delivers the lyrics with direct expression, carrying me along into the mood of the song. A widely dancing synth moves with the strummed electric bass before the song comes to an end.

Our narrator says that no one can pass the checkpoint or "the wall that separates us all, the strip of death between East and West." She adds that no one will pass it again, so you should turn and walk away to "live to see another day.”

The storyteller asks if the song's subject can hear her, adding, "I really need you by my side. It no longer matters if I live or die," as she longs for a day when the wall finally comes down. As they raise their glasses high, "we will laugh and cry because freedom has arrived."

Now our narrator points out that they live two blocks apart, "but it might as well be across the globe.” She feels like she's losing hope and has thought of attempting an escape because "I want to see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your skin."

The sound of a busy park and birds opens "Take Me Home Tonight." The drums, bass and synth dreamily drift before rising into glittering life, gliding out with a softly touching melody. The drums pulse smoothly as the melody is filled with wistful memories. Ida Trosell's voice is sweet and softly wraps around me as she carries the longing in the lyrics. Ringing guitar adds tender luminosity as Ida Trosell expresses the confusion and ache of the lyrics. The synth exudes luscious effulgence as the vocals carry the chorus, full of need and desire.

The drums continue to guide the music as the guitar fills the music with brilliance and Ida Trosell’s voice carries passionate pain. The drums are a smooth guide as the synth weaves a web of crystalline radiance. I am drawn to the way in which Ida Trosell takes hold of my heart as the guitar carries a solo that fills me with calm while still creating a sense of need. The chorus slides out again as the vocals drive the lyrics home. Scintillating brightness slides from the synth as Ida Trosell's voice soars to the sky. The guitar weaves a melody full of intense love and longing before the song ends.

The storyteller says that summer is over, but she still doesn't know what to do. She adds, "I've spent the last four years trying to forget about you," but her friends saw the song's subject at the mall, so now she knows they're back in town. Now she's gone from MIT to working at the local video store and "my dad gave me the summer to figure things out," but she finds herself even more lost than she was before.

Our narrator asks the song's subject if they're coming to the party tonight. She says, "I need to know 'cause I've been waiting for you all my life." In the warmth of the night, her feelings are out of control—she wants "skin on skin" and to be taken home by the other person. She adds that she'll have her chance as they are "getting ready to move."

The storyteller never asked the song's subject out when they were in high school because "I was so scared, thinking I'd end up looking like a fool." Now they're together at a party and "everyone wants you, but I've been waiting for you all my life." The other person sees her waiting across the patio and they’re together as she’s "having the best night of my life." She says that "the night is young, but my feelings run wild" before concluding that she wants the other person to take her home.

"We Were The Cold War Kids" starts with ominous, deeply reverberant synth pulses and a guitar adds another dark note. A kick drum slowly pulses as the darkly intertwining synth moves with gruff edges. A radiant synth calls out with haunting energy as the guitar intermingles with the drums and bass in the distance. Weight and a hint of danger hover in the guitar as the drums drive on.

An elevated, ghostly sound glides as Joakim Paulsson conveys the ache of the lyrics, pouring out anxiety and tension. Ida Trossell weaves her voice in as both singers call out in the chorus, a defiant call to fight the growing danger. The drums keep guiding the music as Joakim Paulsson captures a sense of imminent threat. In contrast, there is warmth and love in the next line.

I find this song’s reflection on a growing possibility of authoritarian takeover poignant. The drums continue to guide the music as the chorus rises with a sense of resistance. Softly glimmering synth tumbles as Joakim Paulsson conveys a sense of worry in his strong voice. There’s a worshipful quality in the floating synth before the chorus calls out again, full of intimidating portent, before the song comes to an end.

Our narrator speaks about how they were the Cold War kids in their "journey towards adolescence." They were caught between the East and the West as they watched the "Iron Curtain fall and the Berlin Wall collapsing like a domino" to open the path to a new era. She adds, "Now it's happening again, are we reaching the end?"

The storyteller says that now "people seem to want freedom from choice" and have no sense of liberty. She likens them to a "flock of sheep who think war is peace." She says that if you want freedom, "it's time to fight autocracy" as history repeats itself.

Our narrator says that "the sun is zooming in and the Doomsday Clock is ticking" while crops grow thin. In the song’s subject’s eyes, all she sees is "a warmth, a paradise, glowing in a world turning black" as our sisters and brothers are being attacked.

Now the storyteller says that "like Winston and Julia, rebellion’s what we need if we want to be free." She concludes that "the world is moving backwards; love is not all we need."

Actively moving electric bass and easily guiding drums commence “Polonia.” Tightly wound synth moves in a melancholy melodic pattern as the drums and bass push forward. The synth chords have a flashing sheen as the drums continue to pulsate.

Ida Trosell’s touching voice captures all of the emptiness and craving for freedom in the lyrics. The electric bass propels the music with undulating dynamism as Ida Trosell’s voice carries aching defiance. Now, Joakim Paulsson joins her and their chorus reflects victory and a sense of hope as the satiny synth suffuses the music with gentle illumination.

The vocals touch my heart, conveying the aspirations and fears of the people. The chorus rises again with a sense of vengeance and renewed positivity as the drums continue to pulse, while a guitar calls out with encouragement and warmth before the song ends.

The storyteller wants out, adding that the life she's living isn't a life worth leading. She feels like there must be a place that offers more—"a place where freedom reigns, where liberty’s not in chains."

Where she is, the shelves are empty, people are on strike, imprisoned, or killed and there is no freedom of expression. Our narrator says, "Look what they've done to our beloved Polonia," declaring that they will no longer submit to oppression. She adds, "They will see—solidarity. Our movement is spreading ripples across the country."

She states that they will not rest until they are free once more and democracy is restored. The storyteller dreams of a place where people live freely, somewhere to the West. However, "there's a wall between us and our happiness" as people suffer from a lack of human rights. She ends on a note of hope: "Something's happening—people are starting to fight."

“The Baltic Way” kicks off with effulgent synth shifts in softly caressing chords that wash over the music. Ida Trosell’s voice is touching and full of quiet determination as the drums barely brush against the rising, richly surrounding chords.

Ida’s voice has a strong core to its sweetness as rough-edged bass undulates and the drums pound. Her voice rises with a sense of hope slowly being fulfilled. Joakim Paulsson now joins her as the drums and bass create a heartbeat. The strumming guitar moves while an ardent synth exudes a brilliant glow.

The chorus soars, filling me with passion. The drums continue pulsing as the entangling guitar drifts past and the rough-edged bass rumbles. The vocals are strong in their opposition to oppression. The background is full of fondness as the drums continue forward. The chorus climbs, gliding with positivity, while the triumphant synth flows. As the song ends, perseverance and joy radiate through and the track closes with the synth shining and filling the music with a sense of indomitable happiness.

Our narrator states that they have been restrained for far too long—"if we don't act, this will all be gone." She tells their oppressors that they will learn, because the people are "tired of standing in line for bread" and have had enough of being oppressed. She says the tide will turn and "there has got to be something better out there—maybe collective action can take us there."

The storyteller declares that their rulers will learn: "We will not let you destroy our land. We will not bury our heads in the sand." She adds that the tide will turn and "this is the Baltic Way." They will not remain silent for one more day and "will sing this song for everyone who's gone."

Our narrator says their defiance will be a million voices raised—"to overthrow the evil empire, ‘cause it must go." She adds that they are tired of being ordered around and will no longer listen to their oppressors. She concludes, "So many sisters and brothers dead to this day. We almost lost ourselves along the way. The tide will turn."

Conclusion

Generation X captivates me, heart and soul, drawing me into its vocal expression and lyrical depth. Out of all the albums so far this year, this is one of my favourites for how it emotionally engages me and holds my attention on repeat listens.