How do you say the unspeakable? How do you express emotions that can hardly be put into words, but at the same time evoke a feeling of recognition for everyone?

And how do you ensure that your most personal experiences are mapped out in such a way that anyone can identify with them? 

These are all questions that Lukas Somers tries to answer on Atlas, the remarkable second album by SOLAK.

 

Four years ago Green was released as a noteworthy debut, even though Lukas himself thought it was nothing more than a demo that got out of hand.

Until then, he had always put his talent at the service of others, and the music had therefore mostly been a democratic compromise.

Not a bad thing, of course. But with SOLAK, Lukas mainly wanted to prove to himself that he could do it all on his own. To his own surprise, without any outside interference, songs like he had never written before suddenly emerged.

Melancholic, indeed. And at the same time extremely melodic. Lukas didn't feel like a singer, but he sang. Almost everything you heard was played by himself, from bass to piano, from guitar to drums and percussion.

The result sounded fragile and delicate. Modest and introverted. Very lo-fi, too. In short, this was not music that screamed for attention, but it did lead you into a universe of its own. Somers's ambitions with Greenwere modest.

It was enough that the record existed. And it did.