Lydmor's new album 'CAPACITY' is a musical maze full of alluring mysteries. At the same time, it is part of a process of liberation, which is about opening oneself up and discovering one's capacity. For her previous album, Lydmor travelled to Shanghai. But on her new album, Lydmor has mostly travelled deep into herself. 'CAPACITY' is a contrasting musical work where fiction and reality merge into a multifaceted sound universe. It is the electronic pop artist's most personal, complex and conceptual album to date. There is almost a David Lynch'ish cut about 'CAPACITY'. The album is like a winding maze where it is difficult to decipher what is real and what is an illusion. Like a book with countless narratives. Without conclusions. Ambiguous. Full of alluring mysteries, dreams, reflections and messages about gender, identity, love, guilt and liberation. Rich in contrasts: Black/white. Silence/noise. Weakness/strength. Fiction/reality. Labyrinth/compass. “I am interested in delving into issues where something interesting is happening psychologically, anthropologically and sociologically, where you can see what is happening and how a fight is escalating. The album is a process of liberation, which is very much about romantic liberation and emotional intelligence in the modern world, where I see a new generation that deals with gender, identity and relationships in a different way than in the past. There was the sexual revolution in the 1960s and 1970s, where it seemed that there was little focus on emotional intelligence. When I look around now, I feel that the way people treat their love life, their identity and their gender is much more interesting and responsible. A revolution has happened, and I think this is really exciting.” explains Lydmor. Lydmor dives fearlessly into the problems of 'CAPACITY', resulting in a myriad of expressions and stories. The insisting and beat-heavy 'LSD Heart' sharply criticizes the dominance of patriarchy in modern art. 'Someone We Used To Love' frames the fragility we experience when confronted by a former lover, who now exhibits feelings for another, and Lydmor looks inward at the self-reflective and thoughtful 'Guilty (Kill Me)'. 'CAPACITY' also features several enigmatic characters and places that seem to be outside of time and space. Who is the strange man with the labyrinth face in 'The Labyrinth Faced Man'? What role does he play in the narrative? What about the two women Amanda and Emma? Amanda, appearing in 'Amanda's Lullaby' and 'Amanda's Dream', is plagued by a terrible nightmare about a terrorist attack in which evil men kill women. Is it related to her fear of patriarchy and her fascination with Chilean author Roberto Bolaño's cult novel '2666', in which women are also killed by men? And what about Emma appearing in 'Emma Spins'? What kind of quarrel does 'CAPACITY's narrator have with her? Central to the story of 'CAPACITY' is also the mysterious 'Leopold Hotel', which appears on the song 'Nevada', where Lydmor sings a duet with Faroese artist Eivør. The hotel is isolated in the middle of the Nevada desert. What's going on here? That remains unsaid, but you sense that something fatal has happened. Heavy drinking has taken place, everything seems foggy and two people have had a violent misunderstanding. But has this misunderstanding been so catastrophic that it has triggered the 'Big Bang' of oppression? A spark from which all sexism, humiliation, all our prejudices and all our shame originated? And why do neon-lit advertisements for this particular hotel appear on the closing song 'Hotel Ads'? Are the commercials, in fact, warning lights? And is 'The Leopold Hotel' perhaps the centre of the labyrinth that everything points back to? The truth lurks just around the corner. Or maybe it's the lie. Maybe it's all a lie. Or maybe everything here is more true than anything you've ever heard before. These are some of the riddles that the album's 14 songs contain. Lydmor presents no easy or single answer to 'CAPACITY'. At the same time, the album contains a message about daring to open up.