Bas Beenackers' intriguing solo début The sun-drenched beaches of his imagination If you've ever had the pleasure of witnessing Bas Beenackers on stage, either solo or with his indie rock band My Blue Van, you know that he completely loses himself in the songs. Fully absorbed as it were. Sounds and words merge and put the listener in a trance-like state of mind as well. And not just live. His untitled solo début washes over us in pleasurable waves, although existential turmoil seethes beneath the surface. Solo début? Didn't singer-guitarist Bas Beenackers (Maarheeze, 1985) previously release the EP Man under his own name? Yes, that's right. Five new tracks have been added to the five acoustic guitar songs on it now. While more richly arranged, these new tracks blend seamlessly with the older ones in tone and theme. "All ten songs are spiritual and emotional," Beenackers says from his sprawling garden, on the outskirts of Utrecht. Further on, his wife works in the vegetable garden and his sons play in a big rain puddle. "I write sentimental music about life's big topics: love, death, children. I don’t like analyzing my lyrics to death, but they are definitely contemplative in nature. Hopefully people will find comfort in it, on a Sunday morning with the curtains closed and the fireplace lit." Uncharted territory As with his EP, Beenackers once again worked intensively with producer Simon Akkermans (i.a. C-mon & Kypski, Mister & Mississippi and Jungle by Night) in his Epic Rainbow Unicorn Studio in Rotterdam. "In half of the songs, previously released on Man, you hear only my voice and acoustic guitar. The other half features more instruments, namely horn, trumpet, trombone, tuba and bass clarinet. Jazzy horns, that is. But we also included electric guitar, bass, percussion and even a singing saw. For the sound of these tracks, producer Akkermans and arranger Romain Bly (i.a. The Kyteman Orchestra, Typhoon and Wende) were influenced by Sketches of Spain, Miles Davis' classic album, and Ennio Morricone's western soundtracks. I myself am inspired by all kinds of music, ranging from flamenco and rebetiko to Americana and classical composers such as Erik Satie and Claude Debussy. It's a delight to venture into unexplored territory, to step out of your comfort zone." The finest work is as close to the creator himself as possible, Beenackers believes. So it's no surprise that he works as a psychologist in his daily life. He also delves into the human psyche in his stream-of-consciousness texts. Not to find answers, but to showcase the inscrutability and absurdities of life. We all have our flaws, which is precisely what makes us beautiful. "For me, the craft of songwriting is a combination of self-therapy and recreation," Beenackers says with a playful smile. "That way, I try to understand something about our existence." A higher power The opener Stork is just such an intriguing glimpse into Beenackers' soul. The stork from the title brings life, life that is irrevocably accompanied by mourning and grief. Over dreamy guitar playing, he implores in a voice as innocent as it is tormented that “deep is the grief that comes with life, deep the relief all that comes will pass me by, deep is my belief that we’re too small to see why”. Toward the end, guest musicians led by horn and trumpet player Bly blow the song in warmer directions. This is also the setting for Ride It, a languid wanderer of a song that sways calmly in the Spanish beach breeze. 'Take things as they come' is the song's mantra. “Don’t you try to stay calm, better surf the waves, son. Roller coaster you can’t stop, ride it as it comes.” Breathe, in which we slowly steam towards an inevitable end, is considerably less uninhibited. This dirge could easily have turned out fatalistic, were it not for the cinematic arrangement that drapes over us like a warm blanket. Just look at him sitting there, the long-haired late thirty-something in his green-and-white stage overalls, on a stool on the altar of an Oud-Zuilen chapel. His hand dances across the neck of his Martin guitar, as if propelled by a higher power. A sudden vocal outburst seems to want to knock down the walls of the house of worship. The audience holds its breath. In his mind, music psychologist Bas Beenackers has departed for the sun-drenched beaches of his imagination. And we follow close behind him.