It's been a hell of a journey for Mike Rosenberg. Brighton born and raised (and still based) but in practice a traveller/troubabour at heart, he says he is hardly ever recognised in the street. Which is quite remarkable for a man who has achieved so many global sales to his name of late, most famously for the ubiquitous ‘Let Her Go’. Could it be that the music means so much more than the personality behind it? One who has a self-deprecating sense of humour, and is very funny in general (a key to his success is his very engaging on-stage persona), whilst also singing deeply personal songs. One who never makes it to the tabloids, unlike his very good friend Ed Sheeran, a man partly responsible for Rosenberg's success. One who has music pouring out of his veins, like a true artist should have.

This album is a turning point for Mike. Now that he has firmly established himself as a big selling artist, and is presumably making some decent dough, is the hunger still there? Is there still a fire in his heart? Is he still able and willing to push himself? To let it all hang out, in verse and song, as is his usual way?

The answer has to be yes, especially when you consider the trials and tribulations he went through in trying to establish himself a decade ago, when plenty of development money and resources was directed his way from those who saw a rare talent. It didn’t work out then, a case of perhaps trying too hard to manufacture something that more often than not happens in unexpected, less planned ways. Rosenberg eventually turned his back on the industry, busking and travelling around, spending much of his time in Australia where for all intents and purposes he started afresh, but with a stronger DIY ethos instilled in him. Certainly, before he went global, he was eking a living and doing what was second nature to him. But fortune (favouring the brave) smiled on him as he rekindled his relationship with Ed Sheehan (whom he had known years before Sheehanmania took hold), and who took him out on tour. And Let Her Go got picked up by a Dutch radio station and quickly spread like wildfire, eventually becoming a number one in 17 plus countries.

After so much hard work, it would perhaps be more tempting to go through the motions, and deliver what you think the people want. And within ‘Young as the Morning Old as the Sea’ there is a suggestion here and there that Rosenberg is coasting a little, not trying too hard with the chord patterns, the lyrics, or the music. Thankfully, it is fleeting. For the greater part ‘Young as the Morning Old as the Sea’ feels like the fire is still burning bright, as he continues on his journey, looking for happiness, some roots to lay down, some meaning to it all. Throughout his career Rosenberg has consistently found engaging ways to say the obvious.

The dreamy optimism is still there in spades. One who has travelled far and wide yielding just a guitar when on the road (although the album is largely a ’band’ affair, and indeed he’ll be with a band for the forthcoming UK tour, the first time he hasn’t been solo for a long time), he still sounds hungry, if a little conflicted. He wants more, much more. He's still yearning, never quite satisfied it seems, looking for both stability and freedom. "I wanna be sunny and bright as a sunrise / Happy and full as the moon / I'm fleeting like fireworks fading too soon," he sings on the stripped back acoustica of the title track, an indication that while he travels this bumpy road as a musician he still lacks that certain something, most likely a strong and meaningful relationship with someone. But as long as he is searching and striving, then that is alright. A life in front of a screen is not for him.

"When you've got nothing, you've got something to prove…. Then you get something, something that you've always dreamed about / When you've got something, you've got something to lose… Nothing isn't something until you lose everything." Indeed. Love, friendship and roots is everything in Rosenberg's world. From the yearning ‘If You Go’ to the nostalgia of boyhood friendship in ‘When We Were Young’ and the sunny optimism of ‘Anywhere’, Rosenberg’s dreams, memories and aspirations live on.

But there is sadness, too. Such as on album highlight ‘The Long Road’, a weaving and gentle country-folk flavoured song that is lamentful and heartfelt, full of those lucid metaphors and couplets that he is so good at. And closer ‘Home’ is another strong indicator that he is still restlessly searching for something that he may never find. "They say home is where the heart is, but my heart is wild and free / So am I homeless or just heartless / Did I start this, or did it start me," Rosenberg sings, his voice audibly breaking as he really lets rip towards the end.

Rosenberg is best when he eschews the mainstream, the obvious easy-on-the-ear sing-alongs, instead truly singing from the heart. And thankfully once again, he locates his deep down creative mojo time and time again.
Jeff Hemmings