MaVe’s second studio album, Ecstatic / Perplexed, pushes you forward on waves you can’t quite keep up with—then suddenly hurls you into another dimension without warning. The fusion of traditional Scandinavian motifs with commercial pop reminded me of how some artists take old, rusty chains and turn them into installations you can’t look away from.

Sounds strange, but it’s this kind of eclecticism that sparks real energy. This explosive mix also features live drums from Halvor Dokke, which undeniably throws you off your usual rhythm.

photo by Vegar Moe Nilsen

MaVe has been working in the pop genre for quite some time, though on this new album, only a faint trace of the standard radio format remains. You can catch echoes of familiar Scandinavian lyricism and pop rhythms, but then, out of nowhere, the heavy drums kick in (thanks to Halvor Dokke), shattering that softness with their raw boom-boom-boom—injecting the songs with a hefty dose of dynamite. Peter Sørheim, the engineer as well as guitarist and bassist, deserves credit for the album’s cohesive sound—under his hands, all these diverse elements lock into place like a perfectly fitting puzzle.

The album consists of nine tracks, each like a small confession—without unnecessary grandiosity. What’s intriguing is how MaVe presents completely opposing moods—unrestrained euphoria and quiet contemplation. It’s useful, you know, to peer into your own depths now and then, only to suddenly jump up and dance until your knees give out. That’s exactly how it plays out here: one moment, you’re bouncing with excitement, the next, you’re staring at a wall with peeling wallpaper, pondering the meaning of life.

Ecstatic / Perplexed carries a strong duality, something already hinted at in its two-part title. Individual tracks stand out through a mix of styles—there’s a familiar pop delivery, seemingly leading into a recognizable chorus, but then a guitar riff cuts through, followed by a drumbeat, and suddenly you’re swaying in the dim light. A couple of songs feel soaked in late-night conversations with oneself, with distant echoes of old Scandinavian ballads lurking in the background. This contrast is impossible to ignore—MaVe clearly intended to push us along the emotional spectrum.

Some tracks are densely packed with electronic production, yet the live drums keep everything feeling more tangible than usual. There’s a raw, breathing presence in the instruments. It’s hard to ignore how MaVe rides these percussive waves—whispering something intimate in one song, then shedding that layer of vulnerability three minutes later to emerge as a full-fledged rock diva. Her experimentation doesn’t feel like a stylistic exercise but rather an effort to jolt the listener out of passive hearing, dragging them to the edge of a cliff—stay alert, because a surprise is coming.

An Entire Universe of Contrasts

The album opens with Power Loving, and it feels symbolic. Right from the start, MaVe makes it clear that she has her own style, and it’s far from a polished pop product. There’s a Scandinavian vibe here, but not in the cozy, blanket-and-hot-chocolate way—more in the sense of something ritualistic, almost shamanic. Her vocals hover above the arrangement, creating tension in one moment and pulling you under her spell the next.

photo by Vegar Moe Nilsen

Then comes Solo Flying, and it immediately slows things down. The song is delicate, airy, and deeply emotive, as if half-written in a dream. The contrast is striking—her vocals feel both powerful and fragile, the pop melody flows effortlessly, yet it doesn’t stick in a cloying way.

Then comes Cloud Skies, marking the album’s central shift. This is pure atmospheric pop, expanding outward and filling the space around it. But MaVe wouldn’t be MaVe without her signature touch—woven into the nuances of her vocals and subtle inflections is a trace of Scandinavian folk. It’s not overt, but it’s there. In the background, vibrant drums, dense production, and enveloping synths complete the sound.

Extraordinary and WEAK take a sharp turn. If the earlier tracks rocked us gently on waves of dreamy atmosphere, these throw us into darker waters. The bass runs deep, the beat sinks low, and the mood drops a few floors. Pop music can be mesmerizing, but MaVe adds an edge—something almost sinister, even deceptive.

Tolerate pulls us back into a safer space. The vocals are serene yet carry an underlying strength. There’s nothing overly complex here, but MaVe expertly plays with pauses and breath, creating a feeling akin to meditation. The album’s final note comes with I’d Remember You, closing things on an open, ethereal tone. It’s like a last glance over the shoulder before disappearing—pure harmonies, vocals slipping away as if dissolving into thin air.

They say the first steps of a new era always come with risk, but MaVe clearly chose to throw the doors wide open—bringing in Dokke, trusting Sørheim, and together, they gave this pop sound a bit of a rebellious edge. Some might call it just a mix of styles. Maybe it is. But to me, there’s something in it that pulls you under completely, making it hard to resurface.

As these nine tracks keep spinning, I realize that MaVe has built an entire universe out of contrasts. I’ll be keeping this album on repeat, but even now, one thing is clear: a couple of drinks, a little free time, and Ecstatic / Perplexed will take you to a strange, immersive space—one where you just keep floating for as long as your energy and inspiration hold out. And somehow, it doesn’t feel unsettling, even with those extremes—euphoria and quiet sorrow—crashing against the sides. Everything intertwines, as it always does when someone boldly blends familiar genres and adds a dash of personal revelation. And it makes you want to pour another glass—water, wine, or something stronger—because MaVe’s music keeps calling you forward. And honestly? I’m not about to say no.

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub