Leif Vollebekk

by Jim Di Gioia

November 14, 2016

Leif Vollebekk

Kyla Gilbert

Profane times call for profound measures. When the air around you is apocalyptic, your every breath must be steadfast, every move solid and loyal and true. When all around you is uncertain, unexpected, unexplainable, we take comfort and find courage in the familiar.

Maybe that’s why this week, more than any other in recent memory, art has salved our souls from the maddening fray we find ourselves in. Art, like the plaintive beauty of “Elegy” from Montreal’s Leif Vollebekk, that is most definitely down but defiantly not out. There’s no room for optimism in Vollebekk’s ruminative verses, but he also has no patience for wallowing in pity. He’s determined to find another way to climb out of the basement we’re collectively finding ourselves in.

“Things are only revealed in the light that is given,” he intones, a reminder that hiding or denying truths set down in front of us will not make them any less true. Leif Vollebekk’s “Elegy” may have started life as a lament for lost love, a sober reflection of the soul, but this week, it resonates deeper. This week, it’s profoundly prescient.

Jim Di Gioia

Jim founded the music blog Quick Before It Melts in 2006 and was its principal writer until 2016, when its decade-long run ended 10 years to the day it started. DOMINIONATED is its spiritual successor. Jim currently serves as a Polaris Music Prize jurist and Prism Prize jurist.
Jim Di Gioia

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