Hey, you know how life’s got this way of pulling you in a million directions, but every now and then, something real comes along that just hits different? That is exactly what I felt the first time I spun Afie Jurvanen’s latest, “My Second Last Album,” under the Bahamas moniker. It is like he’s bottled up that raw, honest vibe he is always had, but this time, he’s cranked it up with a mix of soulful grooves, folk-tinged storytelling, and a dash of country-funk that swings like an old porch swing on a summer night. I mean, imagine ditching the city hustle for a shed in Nova Scotia—yeah, a actual shed—with his buddy Joshua Van Tassel on drums, turning out tracks that feel like they’re straight from the heart of everyday life.

Take “Feels So Good,” for instance; it’s got this infectious groove that pulls you in right from the opening notes, making you nod along like you’re at a backyard jam session. And then there’s the lead single, “The Bridge,” with its playful candor that cuts through the noise, talking about family ties and that quiet resilience we all chase. Afie’s lyrics here are candid as ever, weaving tales of finding peace away from the spotlight—it’s personal stuff, but in the best way, like he is sharing a late-night chat with an old friend. This album blends all these elements—soul, folk, country-funk, and pop—into something that is not just music, but a reminder that sometimes, stepping back is what makes the good stuff stand out.

What’s cool is how this record feels essential, especially reflecting the renewed demand for where everything’s so polished. Released on Brushfire/Republic Records, it’s got that ASIN B0FSG2KDQR for you tech-savvy folks, and it hit the scene with an original release date of 2025, available since September 25 of that year. It’s a single disc that’ll slot right into your collection, and hey, it’s even climbing the ranks at #4,644 in Pop Singer-Songwriters on the charts. If you’re like me, someone who’s always on the hunt for albums that stick with you, this one’s a no-brainer. Grab it on vinyl, crank it up, and let it remind you why music like this never goes out of style—it’s got that timeless feel that’ll keep pulling you back for more spins.

There’s a sublime irony in Afie Jurvanen naming his latest release “My Second Last Album.” The man behind Bahamas has crafted something that feels simultaneously like a farewell and a rebirth—a paradox that permeates this collection with a peculiar tension that rewards repeated listens.

Picture this: Jurvanen, fleeing the urban grind for coastal Nova Scotia, holed up in a shed-turned-studio with longtime collaborator Joshua Van Tassel. It is the kind of romantic creative retreat that usually produces either self-indulgent navel-gazing or startling clarity. Fortunately for us, Jurvanen delivers firmly in the latter category.

The Canadian songwriter has always existed in a liminal space between genres, but here his blend of soul, folk, and what I can only describe as “country-funk” achieves a seamless integration that his previous work has sometimes only hinted at. It is as if moving physically to the periphery has allowed him to find the center of his sound.

“Feels So Good” rides a groove that wouldn’t feel out of place on a Bill Withers record, yet remains distinctly Bahamas in its unassuming delivery. There’s a quiet confidence throughout that speaks to an artist comfortable enough to whisper when others might shout.

The album’s lead single, “The Bridge,” perfectly encapsulates what makes Jurvanen special—playful candor wrapped in deceptively sophisticated arrangements. When he sings about connection and distance, you get the sense he is not just trafficking in metaphor but processing his actual geographic and emotional relocations.

I’ve followed Jurvanen since his early days opening for fellow Canadian Feist (where he once served as her guitarist), and what strikes me about this evolution is how he is maintained his distinctive guitar touch—those clean, reverb-kissed phrases that hang in the air like questions—while pushing his songwriting into more vulnerable territory.

An interesting tidbit: Jurvanen apparently recorded much of this album during the maritime winter, when daylight was scarce and the shed studio required space heaters to keep the equipment functioning. That sense of creating warmth within isolation permeates these tracks.

Who should listen to the record? Anyone who appreciates songcraft that doesn’t announce itself with fireworks but reveals its depth over time. Fans of artists like Wilco, Kurt Vile, or even the mellower side of Mac DeMarco will find much to love here. It is also ideal for those moments of transition—long drives, Sunday mornings, or evenings when you are contemplating a change of your own.

“My Second Last Album” feels like an invitation into someone’s private world—not in a voyeuristic way, but as a welcomed guest. If this truly is Jurvanen’s penultimate statement (which I somewhat doubt), he is created something essential that will stand as a testament to finding peace outside the spotlight.