Found Heaven

the take

Found Heaven is the first album I think of when I imagine an “80s pop album,” and that’s mighty impressive considering how it wasn’t even made in the 80s. Not only does it achieve this feat, but it is still as lyrically intimate and unique as the first two Conan albums plastered on a mix of eclectic pop sounds and beats. Despite FH’s poetic narrative just like its predecessors, it failed to chart well and was deemed a “failure” by his record label—and most likely Conan himself. Even then, it is ultimately his most personal album to date: ranging from religious trauma to the almost parasitic relationship between Conan and his father. The album’s title track starts off with an almost angelic-like chorus chanting about sin and love, then Conan speaks to someone in the second person, presumably his younger self. He tells himself not to listen to the lies spawned by those around him growing up in a religious town and that he can “find heaven” through love. One of the singles, Alley Rose, details a former relationship; however, it’s not about a love turned sour, but rather the pleasures that came from the relationship and that it’s all he needs. By the end of the song, he’s practically begging the recipient to return to him, that’s how good it was. The last song, Winner, begins with the narrator leaving at 14 due to the neglect shown by someone. Then, the narrator tells them that they’re the winner, for they hurt him more than anyone else ever could (most presumably Conan to his father.) All of this ultimately leads to a deeply emotional and tragic album that is part breakdown, part love letter formed from various 70s-90s references seen in songs like “Alley Rose, Never Ending Song, and Fainted Love.” I once saw someone say that the reason they believed that Found Heaven failed numbers wise was because of the removal of the singles Telepath and Overdrive from Superache, and I agree. Found Heaven is Conan’s deep love letter to the 80s, and looking back, it deserved better.