In the opening months of 2026, there seems to have been a rapidly growing anticipation for the arrival of Evergreen In Your Mind, Juni Habel’snew album. It is the Norwegian singer-songwriter’s first in three years since the breakthrough success she enjoyed with her previous ‘Carvings’ LP, but I have sensed there is more to it than just some positive winter-months interest. I heard a radio DJ recently play a track from this record and predicted it would already be one of the albums of the year. And the strange thing is, when you hear any of the eleven songs featured here, that statement does not feel excessive. For me, too, the slow drip-feed of mouth-watering preview glimpses I have encountered in the opening weeks of 2026 all had me thinking, ” Wow, that is going to be a great album when it comes out.” It could be that the heavy leaning on tunefully played, homely nylon guitar strings lends it a comforting timelessness, or it could be that the quality of the composition is of a noticeably higher stripe, the kind where if a dissenting voice tries to claim they do not like it, you question the ears of the individual rather than the music. But as it turns out, upon finally playing the full album, all the predictions are accurate and then some; Evergreen In Your Mind is an absolutely wonderful record.
Stand So Still will have been the song that caught the attention of many listeners initially. It really is a piece that has been constructed and executed to perfection. A beautifully paced guitar pattern forms the platform for the song to embrace heavenly expressions of connection with the natural world, with allusions to being overwhelmed by it, too. The stillness of the title can be felt; this is a song that has a lot of space, and I appreciate how, here and on other songs, there is no big push for a conclusive answer. Is Juni happy to be standing still, aspiring to some stationary solitude or raging against the lack of motion in frustration? It is impossible to say, and neither does it need to be made clear. The overall feel says enough, and on a musical note, I love how she adopts some techniques that feel like they have fallen out of use somewhat. The song does not just end, it closes on a previously unplayed final chord that chimes with closure and there are moments between changes where a four-note progression, just a simple C-D-E-F for example, eases the transition. This is the kind of playing folk guitarists employ when the guitar is the only instrument; whilst that is certainly not the case here, it does add another subtle layer of appeal to the record.
The reality is that this album possesses some fine production, but it is just subtly deployed rather than trying to take centre stage. Juni has worked with producer Stian Skaaden previously, and with work like this now being realised, it is safe to assume there is a subliminal connection between the two. Of their relationship, Juni says, “Stian was an invaluable partner. He was endlessly curious and playful with what we could add to these songs.” Arguably, his greatest brush stroke is how he conjures the impression of both solitude and ghostly presences. Those sounds you hear, the knocked table legs, doors being closed, or keys dropping to the floor, are not audible by accident. Closing number Statues exists in such an eery space you can almost picture a Homunculi forming in the nearest jar. Gitarhum is a drone-like instrumental, apparently very low-key in its presence, as the title of the piece quickly makes perfect sense. But there is so much else happening deep down; mesmeric violin scrapes and the heaviest of bass parts all wrapped up in a misty fog of suspense.
This shines like an album committed to finding spiritual highs between the grind and ruptures of daily life. There is an ever-present immersion with nature and landscape, a desire signposted by the vivid album art. There is also a thirst for creation born out of happenstance. Pearl Cloud Song is another glorious instrumental that materialised out of a guitar tuning Habel had just stumbled upon. Sage is mournful despite a ticking wind-up clock of a guitar figure trying to stitch it all together, a heavy harmonium sound at the centre point weighs in with an intensity that can only imply sorrow. During the sessions, which Juni afforded herself some time to evolve at an unpressured pace, they found an effortlessness even though, in her own words, “the way of getting there is anything but effortless.” But it is the natural flow that ultimately pushes this album above the norm. A song like I’d Like To See It simply has nothing about it that could be improved; the changes are exquisite, always feeling like the progression that was meant to be, and if you close your eyes, you can reach up and grab those clouds we see on the front cover. For my money, Evergreen In Your Mind is not about stand-out tracks or highlights; it is 41 minutes of sumptuous music that cleanses your mind and reconnects you with the things that matter in life. Album of the year claims are largely invalid in April, but honestly, if this one is not up there come December, then the next eight months are going to be sensational.
Evergreen In Your Mind (April 10th, 2026) Basin Rock
Pre-order: Bandcamp and Basin Rock website