Casper Clausen - Better Way (LP) - Recycled Colour Vinyl

Casper Clausen stepping out on his own felt inevitable, and Better Way makes that choice feel quietly thrilling. Best known as the voice and a founding member of Danish explorers Efterklang and the offshoot Liima, he has always chased the glow between songcraft and sound design. Released 8 January 2021 on City Slang, this debut solo album captures that glow with a patient pulse and a wide, sea-lit gaze.

What lands first is the sense of motion. These songs move like trains at night, steady and hypnotic, with a motorik undercurrent and a soft shimmer of synths that bloom around his voice. Clausen doesn’t belt, he leans in, shaping melodies that drift across the stereo field and sneak under your skin. The production keeps plenty of air between the layers, so when the bass arrives it feels like a tide lifting everything at once. It is a record built on repetition and small shifts, the kind of touch that rewards attention rather than demanding it.

“Used to Think” is the easy gateway. It rides a springy bassline and a glistening cycle of keys, then lets the vocal swirl up like steam. It is catchy in a sly way and hints at the record’s trick: songs that loop and build without ever turning into wallpaper. Across the album, guitars ping like signals, drum machines croon and clatter, and synths glow with a slightly salty edge. That makes sense given Clausen’s base in Lisbon around the time of writing, and you can hear a coastal calm in the spacious mix, the sense of sun and room to stretch. Nothing is cluttered. He trusts the groove, and that trust pays off.

If you come in expecting the orchestral sweep of peak Efterklang, you will find a leaner frame, but the same curiosity. Clausen treats his voice like another instrument, textural and conversational, sometimes nudging a phrase until it catches a new light. The hooks are not telegraphed. They turn up mid-song, half-hidden, and then you find yourself humming them hours later. It puts the album in a pleasing pocket between art pop and krautrock, with the intimacy of a studio kept late into the night.

The record also carries a quiet warmth that fans will recognise. Even when the drums lock into a mechanical grid, there is a humane looseness in the playing, a willingness to let imperfections flicker. Little details keep you close, like a stray guitar harmonic or a synth tone that wobbles at the edges. That attention to feel over flash gives Better Way a lived-in quality. It sounds like a real room, real hands, real breath.

Spin it on a decent system and the low end opens up beautifully, which is why the Better Way vinyl feels like the best way to live with it. The sides flow like long exhale. That steady throb underpins the whole experience, and the top end stays silky rather than harsh. If you are hunting for Casper Clausen vinyl or looking to buy Casper Clausen records online, this is the one to start with. For anyone browsing a Melbourne record store on a Saturday arvo, file it near the thoughtful end of synth pop, next to records that lean into repetition without losing the plot. It also slots neatly beside Efterklang albums on vinyl if you are building out that shelf of adventurous Europeans. And if you are picking through crates of vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out, because City Slang pressings tend to hold their value and sound.

Reception at the time framed it as a meditative left turn, though to my ears it feels like a throughline made clear. The pieces that used to be folded into larger ensembles are given space to stand, and they stand strong. There is no showy pivot or genre cosplay, just a thoughtful writer and singer following a pulse he trusts. By the time the record winds down, you feel lighter, like you have been walked to a quiet lookout and left with a view.

Better Way is not in a rush to convince you. It wins you over by being honest about what it is, which is a set of beautifully made songs that favour tone, texture and momentum over easy fireworks. Give it a few plays, and the map reveals itself. On vinyl, with the room to breathe, it reveals even more.