Swedish singer/songwriter Boy in Space was in an unhinged mood on a Friday evening as he participated in this interview. His plans for the night involved being a “creative weirdo,” working on projects in his home studio, and was routinely histrionic in his responses. Though I was not privy to his music amid what could be considered his breakout period between the late 2010s – early 2020s, his voice, a rare concoction that exists as a rarity without electronic assistance or enhancement, is one I needed to delve into as he continues to evolve as a storyteller and a creator.

Stream: ‘The Butterfly Affect’ – Boy in Space

The general understanding of what a countertenor is, and who qualifies as one, within the world of contemporary music seems to be rather skewed.

While Merriam Webster and other credible sites offered basic explanations, the definition provided by classical-music.com (by BBC Music Magazine) is exponentially more insightful: “… men who are able to manipulate their vocal cords to sing in the higher registers – i.e., those above the range of a tenor – are known as countertenors.”

“Manipulate” is the key word. Countertenor vocalists are able to easily access these higher registers on command, often sitting in the pocket of the predominantly female contralto register with baritone octaves still accessible to them. They are simply able to flip between the two.

The proficiency of this attribute for Boy In Space, the artist project of Alingsås, Sweden-based singer-songwriter Robin Lundbäck, was first presented to this writer on his tune “Mayflowers” last spring via Spotify algorithmic beauty prior to its inclusion on his EP Copium, and can be heard throughout his catalog. His latest EP, The Butterfly Affect, is out now.

The Butterfly Affect - Boy in Space — The Butterfly Affect – Boy in Space

“I remember being fascinated by male vocalists that would not typically sound very male,” says Lundbäck, participating in this interview as he sipped on Friday evening tea from his home in Sweden.

“It’s kind of mystical in a way. When I was young, I had a really high-pitched voice, and when I went through puberty, I was like, ‘Am I going to lose it? I don’t want to do that.’ I would constantly practice singing. I would sing ‘I Want You Back’ by the Jackson 5 on this game called Sing Star and be like, ‘Ok, I’m going to keep my pitch at this range.’ I’d listen to male vocalists, and even females, to train my voice to be there.”

He admitted to not exactly knowing what a countertenor was, or if he is one, exacerbating his own work rate that, along with some celestial and scientific assistance, allowed him to maintain his expansive range. However, he stated that even “Mayflowers,” a song preeminently led by slivers of early 00s nostalgia and the longing for the simplicity of youth, was recorded in a key that could be considered ambitious: “We’d drink all night singin’ ‘Hit me baby, one more time’ / Runnin through the mayflowers / We both know how it ended/ I will spend forever trying to forget her.” His ability to condense fleeting moments of infatuation into nostalgia-driven songs such as “Mayflowers,” “The Last Time,” and “Atom Bomb,” is reputable, and certainly enhanced by his higher vocal register, though he comically attributes it to life experience, stating “Being born in ’94, I’m not born yesterday, so I have references.”

“’Mayflowers’ is high, even for me,” he says, getting back on track. “We wondered if we should lower it half a step. But we were like, ‘… It really hits an emotional nerve, so let’s keep it here.’ It’s about finding those notes. I usually have my mixed voice, so it’s just about finding the push… the perfect mixture, between having my full voice and doing the falsetto stuff… to where I can carry those high notes. The transition of those two ways of singing, sometimes, can be quite difficult, so it’s about… finding moments to step back, because I can’t just belt that song, and knowing when to not push. A lot of male vocalists think that if you’re singing higher, you have to push more. It’s not about pushing more, it’s about relaxing, and doing it softer, which makes it easier.”

He takes the same approach on “Drown,” arguably the most affecting ballad of his catalog thus far inspired by a major plotline of Friends and an old Phil Collins tune, released as a single back in 2019. “I was channeling through two different emotions, and I think that’s why it became so special,” he says. “It brought me back to personal stuff… breakups, divorce, separation, and how traumatic that is when you put trust in someone, and someone misuses that trust. How heartbreaking that is.”

The long-term effects of this tune, as well as “Cold,” his most-streamed song released in 2019, while fruitful, have also been a hinderance. “I’ve heard this before from people around me… [They’ll say] ‘When are we making the next ‘Drown’!?!? A ‘Drown’ moment,” he explains. “I want to let ‘Drown’ be its own moment. There’s something new to be said. Something new to be created. I’m chasing the new, something that I haven’t experienced yet. I’m chasing that emotion, and things that I’ve lived through, and I’m trying to bring that into my melodies and make a new version. Is it with guitar? With piano? A different rhythm? I’ve never been one to be stuck in the past. That stuff scares me. I’d be worried of not being able to make the new thing that will potentially be the new musical breakthrough.”

As a resident of Sweden, Boy In Space is distinctly familiar with dynasty of Scandipop… the legendary music machine fronted by super producer Max Martin and his catalog of hits for artists such as Britney Spears, Celine Dion, and NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys. His creative mind stems directly from this phenomenon.

“That industry stems from writing music for pitch,” he says. “You’re pitching music to others, so you can’t be too specific. What if I’m writing a super specific song about my dad [he says with exasperation], and all of a sudden someone is looking for a song. I can’t just be like, ‘Hey do you wanna buy my song?’ They’re gonna be like, ‘No! That’s about YOUR DAD, you WEIRDO.’ It’s the Scandipop art. We’re such a huge export of music, cause we’re really good at telling stories that make you feel like we’re letting you in, but we’re really not saying anything. If you don’t do it well, it becomes so shallow and nobody wants it. If you do it well, everyone wants to grab it and listen to it.”

His recent output of material, from The Butterfly Affect and beyond, has seen him reach outside of his habitual bag of tricks and aim for an expansion of his artistry stemming from many factors including, simply, shifting interests and musical palettes.

“I get interested in different things at different periods of time,” he says. “You hear that in my old EP’s. You can hear where my ear has been. In the future, the parts that people will get to take part of with Boy In Space is something they have never before. I’m trying to take inspiration from genres like indie pop and folk. I’ve been challenged in Nashville rooms where I’m writing Scandipop songs, and people are like, ‘That’s cool, but what are you saying? What’s behind this?’ It’s made me think, ‘Oh wow, there’s a story to tell… things to say so people can connect to me as an artist and person.’ I’m also getting older. I want to make things that feel like me. Where I am, right now. I’m not as flashy as I used to be [He mugs into the camera]. Just kidding, I am.”

**Tracks off The Butterfly Affect signify a new chapter for Boy In Space, as songs like “Burning Down The House” and “Dancing on Dynamite” traverse new musical ground and emotional capacity.**

The former, with an evident tone shift leaning brighter and poppier than is typical, sees him reflect on a doomed love affair with clarity: “And I know it’s hard to love/ We’ve been shedding our skin like a change in the wind/ And I know it sucks/ But we’ll go through the pain, we’re a field that was fire struck.” The latter offers a restrained, secure take on modern indie pop featuring intentional rhythmic flows and a calculated effort to highlight interchanging vocal contingencies.

“If I would look back five years, even in my music, I wouldn’t recognize myself,” he says, confirming this season of reflection. “You can hear in my old music how bad I was doing. I’ve gone through a few surgeries… I was bound to my bedroom for a long time. And getting out of my past relationship. Learning how to be alone and going into the world in a new way did a lot to me. It’s given me so much physical and mental perspective. Now, I can approach life in such a better way. Even when I’m tired, I’m not really tired. Before, I’d just log off and go incognito. Now, I’m thankful for the work and for these opportunities.”

Opportunities that, as he alluded to earlier, have led to stimulating working relationships with new sounds and new collaborators. “You can hear the journey I’ve been going through, musically,” he says. “The kind of country journey I’ve been on. The pop world has leaned heavily towards it, so I’ve been struck by inspiration by those notes and lyrics. That’s the journey of this EP. I’m finding new ways to tread ground. That is why I called it the The Butterfly Affect. It’s an internal changing. It’s not like, a coffee cup falls on my knee and I’m like, ‘Now the whole world has changed!!’ A bunch of small things become this huge trickle effect inside of me, and it’s beautiful to see as a spectator of my own life.”

Moving forward, Lundbäck’s musical direction, spearheaded by his current emotional and mental state, is clear.

“The last two songs are moving closer to what the future album is going to be,” he says. “‘Too Much To Lose’ is such a Scandipop production, but a weird merge between Nashville and Sweden. I think ‘Burning Down The House’ is my favorite song I’ve ever written. That song has the same effect that ‘Drown’ did. Whenever I play it to people, they say it’s the best thing I’ve done. That’s not everything to me… I do music that I love, but it’s a good sign.”

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