SunYears

Best known as one-third of Swedish trio Peter Bjorn and John, Morén has carried the weight of a global hit in “Young Folks” while also chasing several creative detours—co-writes, collaborations, and production work. But SunYears is different.

What began during the quiet isolation of the pandemic has become a way of resetting, of rediscovering the joy of songwriting without pressure. As Morén was readying the release of a second album, he spoke with us about slowing down and finding freedom in new beginnings.

Analogue: You mentioned you've been spending more time in a quieter, more intentional space. How does that feed into your creative life?

Peter Morén: When I was a kid, I grew up in a rural village in Sweden with basically nothing around—no record shops, only two TV channels. My friends were into sports and video games, but I was alone a lot. Out of boredom, I picked up instruments and started writing songs.

This new space I have now feels similar: tucked between the sea and the trees, separated from the world. It’s calm, and it gives me that same headspace I had back then.

I’m also trying to live a little more old-school here—listening to the radio, watching DVDs, not being online so much. Of course, I still use a Bluetooth speaker for music, but mostly I want a slower pace.

Analogue: Would you call that a life-stage thing, or maybe a cultural response?

Peter: Probably both. I have the chance to live this way thanks to what Peter Bjorn and John accomplished. I don’t need to say yes to every opportunity anymore, but I think it’s also midlife. You see parents or friends get sick, even pass away, and you realize you won’t live forever. That makes you more intentional with your time.

During the pandemic, I really thought about that. It gave me the time and quiet to sit with my guitar, to just think. And that’s what SunYears grew out of.

Analogue: So how does that lens shape SunYears?

SunYears: It’s partly about returning to how I started. During the pandemic, I was supposed to be touring, but instead I was at home, just playing guitar and exploring new things. I’d tried before to co-write and chase modern pop sounds, but I realized that’s not really me. When I make music for myself, it’s always going to be rooted in a live format—me in a room with a drummer and bassist, building something together.

That’s how the first SunYears record happened, and with it, I rediscovered the joy of collaboration. I also started bringing in other voices. I love hearing someone else sing my songs. It brings out new dimensions, makes the music bigger. That became a defining part of the project.

Analogue: Is it easy to return to that beginner’s mindset after years of success with Peter Bjorn and John?

SunYears: Not easy, but possible if you trick yourself. I told myself SunYears was a debut. It was like starting over again in my 40s. Giving it a new name and a framework freed me from the baggage, like having musicians who keep returning, having duets and different voices.

I could never release a t-shirt with “Peter Morén” on it, but “SunYears” feels like a proper project. Even social media is easier when it’s not just me but a band identity. Somehow, it relaxes me.

Analogue: Did you imagine SunYears as a one-off at first, or did you know you’d stay in this lane?

SunYears: At first, I didn’t know what it was. I just recorded some songs without a plan. But then I realized this was different; I couldn’t just put my own name on it. The first record took a while to come out, but before it was even released, I’d already started the second.

Kyle Crane, this great American drummer, had a break in Stockholm and asked if I wanted to record. I brought him and Andreas, my bassist, into Björn’s studio, and we tracked five songs in two days. Those became the core of the second SunYears album, so in a way, the project was already continuing before the first even saw the light of day.

Analogue: And yet the new record was delayed too?

SunYears: Yes, the first label in the U.S. wasn’t sure if they wanted to release it, so I waited around. Eventually, I decided to put it out with my management’s label in Sweden, just to keep moving forward. I don’t like having music sitting on a hard drive. Even if no one listens, releasing it lets me move on to the next thing. I guess I’m still an 'albums' person that way.

Analogue: You’ve mentioned all these collaborators. When singers add their voices, do they change the songs for you?

SunYears: Absolutely. Most of the time, we weren’t in the same room. I’d send files and then get them back, and it was almost like opening presents. Sometimes, singers would add harmonies or unexpected touches, and suddenly, I’d hear my own songs differently.

The right voice can make the melody wider, more emotional. And singing together is a spiritual thing. It can feel communal or transcendent. Even on a record, I think you can feel that.

Analogue: What’s ahead for you in the coming months?

SunYears: First is getting this second record out—it’s due soon. Then I’ll tour with Robert Forster from The Go-Betweens this fall, since I produced his latest album. Next year is the 20th anniversary of Writer’s Block, so Peter Bjorn and John will play that record live again. We already did some U.S. shows, and it was amazing to see teenagers and twenty-somethings discovering us.

I’m also writing all the time. I’ve worked on songs with Josh Rouse, and we might do something more together. And with Peter Bjorn and John, we’ve recorded two songs since the pandemic, so maybe there’ll be a single next year.

Analogue: Nostalgia pulls audiences in, but do you hope some of them will follow you to SunYears?

SunYears: Exactly. Playing Writer’s Block is fun, but my hope is always that people who come for that will also find the new songs. For me, SunYears is about staying true to the gut feeling, making music I actually want to sing years later. That’s the goal.

VISIT: SunYears