skandinavian_Artists > Michael Falch

The usual phrases indicating status quo and “Falch will always be Falch” suddenly changed as a result of the surprising symbiosis between the hardened rock craftsman and the young sparkling rock band, Boat Man Love.

Falch spent the summer of 2006 following up on his seminal comeback album, “Falder Du Nu” (Are you falling), which several reviewers didn’t hesitate to appoint the most likely candidate to the acclaimed “Danish album of the year” award.

Like his CD Michael Falch’s live performances during the summer were uncompromising, daring balance acts without a safety net - but Falch didn’t reel. He succeeded in redefining himself as a modern rock vocalist indeed. ‘The Falcon’ has powered up again and next summer he continues his high voltage journey along with Boat Man Love.

For now it’s time for Michael Falch to explore some of the finest venues and theatres in the country on his own. During October and November there’s an opportunity to meet him in an acoustic mood at a lower volume but with his charm and intense voice at the max and only accompanied by his patinated Martin guitar.

Getting acquainted with Michael Falch through his two self biographic books and now the new revealing “Ud af mørket” (Out of the darkness) by music critic Torben Bille, we’ve learned that Falch isn’t exactly vain when it comes to exposing the ups and downs of his bumpy ride. This honesty Falch also employs to create a certain air of intimacy at his solo performances by presenting heartfelt songs combined with cheerful stories from the psychological challenges of ‘real life’.

Here is what Simon Staun (Fyens Stiftstidende) wrote about Michael Falch solo:

“I wonder if he had ever sounded that good on the radio while making a note on how his acoustic guitar hits you right in solar plexus. Fascinating that one man and one guitar can embrace such a huge tent with melodiousness. I get the feeling that I somehow get under the skin of this troubadour and as he sings there’s nothing to be afraid of” during “The only one left in the world” what never could happen happens. I start crying. I stand paralyzed with the scribbling block in my hand and cry silent tears. That’s how music is supposed to touch you. Right where it hurts - and yet brings you a feeling of pleasant relief. When a man is able to put down lines like: “Can I dream that you embrace me like sunshine against my skin”, then I guess there’s nothing left to say.”


Nov 2006