We can’t actually pin down art, can we? For example, we use metaphors and allegories, trying to make others comprehend what really defies defining. We tend to want our art to be al dente. Raw. But I’m not always in the mood for pasta or bloody steaks. Sometimes I want soup. I want comfort and the feeling of something hot running through my body, siding with the blood pumping through my veins. Man is a beast, a herd animal. We don’t want to be lonely, left alone from time to time, yeah, but not lonely. We want company; we wouldn’t last long without it. Olle Nyman’s Venture is soup and comfort. Good company, a really good friend. And I mean good in the best and widest sense of the word. Someone who not only makes you feel less alone but also urges you to fucking do something, take some responsibility, to not let those bastards reel you in. It’s the voice, that’s what it’s about. Olle Nyman is in his mid-twenties. Olle Nyman is a hundred years old. Do you understand? No? Then please read on. Nowadays words like timeless and sincere are looked upon as tired clichés and people tend to use them only in an ironic context. But you know what else is timeless? Sorrow, grief, pain, loneliness. And all their antidotes. Olle Nyman brings the antidote. He does Timeless like you and I do our daily chores, seemingly without any effort at all, when actually there is hard work behind it all. It’s the getting up, the holding back of tears, the finding of solace. Not to mention all the rest: the dishes, the cleaning and the cooking, the paying of bills and the everlasting getting-by. And here is where art and real life meets. We need help, we need company. Olle Nyman is the guy. Music becomes flesh. He provides the soul, he gets us by. It’s rare but he reminds us. We’re all in this together. It’s beautiful, it really is.