There’s something disarming about a Norwegian band channeling the heart of Midwest emo. On “Eg vannæ plantæ sjøl om di e døð,” Trondheim’s PROBLEMAN pull that off with sharp realism — a mix of emotional unease and melodic urgency very well known from post-emo and pop-punk.
The record beats with a pulse you’d find in The Story So Far, Hot Mulligan, or The Menzingers — just filtered through a colder Northern air and a kind of self-awareness that makes it feel real, not borrowed.
The band admits this one hits harder than their debut. “For those who’ve heard our debut record, it’ll be clear that the songs are faster and the overall sound hits a lot harder,” they explain. “It definitely helps having Billy Mannino on the mix! It feels great to push our sound one step further.” They call it a step forward — leaner, louder, and more confident.
They’ve settled after a few drummer changes, finally landing on a lineup that feels stable enough to carry the sound onstage. The goal now is simple: play as many shows as possible while writing new stuff.
The songs here sit somewhere between midlife unease and fleeting clarity. “Nok ein vanlig fyr” captures that moment when youth fades into routine, when the idea of being “just an ordinary guy” becomes something you have to learn to accept. “It’s a coming of age type of song,” the band says, “except the age in question is the one where you slowly slide into early middle age.”
“Bakover” looks outward — at people who can’t stop replaying the past. It’s not nostalgic in the comforting sense; it’s about how some can’t exist in the present anymore. “Døde plantæ” takes that thought inward again — holding on to something you already know is gone. Its chorus sums up the record’s tone: “I water plants even though they’re dead.”
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The world they describe is small but vivid — summer in a half-empty student town, friends reinventing themselves, and quiet Sundays that feel heavier than they should. “4.juli” was born from the strange rhythm of Trondheim when the students leave. “It feels like the city goes through a kind of dialysis — the lifeblood leaves, and in come German tourists and families with kids,” they explain. The date also happens to be vocalist and guitarist Mathias’ birthday, a small personal anchor in the middle of the track’s slow drift.
“Forfatter” (“The Writer”) speaks to ambition and identity. It’s about Mathias’ friend who finished an architecture degree only to pivot toward writing. “We all have people in our lives who make big plans,” the band reflects. “Often, it just stays talk — but sometimes someone truly surprises you. They chase their goals and prove all the skeptics wrong. Would we have managed to do the same?”
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The quieter edges of the record hit just as hard. “Stille søndag” is “the Sunday scaries in song form,” as they put it — that silent, emotional static between two people when something’s gone unspoken too long. “Drøm uten drømmæ”, an absolute earworm banger premiered earlier this year, sits in that same emotional neighborhood, inspired by being caught in conflict until resignation takes over. “You can have everything in the world and still feel completely alone,” they note.
Closing with “Snurræ i min skalle,” a pop-punk cover of the Swedish electropop song “Snurrar i min skalle” by Familjen, the band translate it into their Northern Norwegian dialect — a full-circle nod to where they come from and where their sound has traveled.
“Eg vannæ plantæ sjøl om di e døð” feels like a reflection on adulthood as much as a musical statement — louder, faster, but grounded in the recognition that growth sometimes means watering dead plants just to feel alive. The record lands as PROBLEMAN’s sharpest and most cohesive work so far — cleaner mixes, heavier guitars, and a more focused sense of direction. It breathes better, hits harder, and deserves attention.
