DEAR JOHN
Om jag inte redan hunnit läsa hundra recensioner så närmar jag mig, så det är min tur nu. Loney Dear - Dear John. Själva grundpremissen är att jag älskar den.
Skiva syftad till att vara avslutande femtedel att lägga efter River Fontana, Citadel Band, Sologne och Loney Noir. Oklart riktigt varför. Emil är Loney Dear och John (Johnny) hans favoritalterego. Dear John är namn på självmordsbrev och hans skivbolag… och alltså femteskivan. I intervjuer kallad både kärleks- och avskedsbrev.
Texterna är konsekventa, motiv och bilder. Det är "you" being "all that I want". Kärleken, ibland mer vagt, gud eller alteregot. Det är vatten, mörker eller kyla att förlora sig i. "Sleep" eller att vara "lost like I was the day before", fara och möjligen vila. "Change". Hoppet är att "I" ska kunna "change" så you eller nåt annat inte vore så omöjligt längre. Krydda med båtar och diverse andra färdmedel, hjärta, djävlar och en aning helvete. Internetkonsensus verkar vara att Sologne och Noir var naivt hoppfulla historier, men det måste jag ha missat. Alla låtar på Noir gick snabbt, men jag har alltid lyssnat mest på "I will always let you down", så det uppenbart mörka här skrämde mig först. (Den sista meninge här är så lame men jag menar den.)
Musiken: Det drar igång med ett halvdassigt synthorn/båttuta, trummaskin, handklapp och syntiga plockstråkar. Ta allt från hitintills och krydda med lite till, försök hålla reda på instrumenten. Det drar sig gärna ända fram till gränsen mot haveriet. Lägg sången i lager som vanligt, lägg till nåt till, slå på nåt, lite brus, lite muller av pukor. Dräm in blås och gitarrer, syntslingor, rastlösa basar, ihärdiga eller dampiga trumkomp. Andraspåret Everything Turns To You är fabulously förtvivlat, jag plockade isär den lite snabbt för att se varför den funkar, och den funkar som det brukar: leder en vid handen, pedagogisk som en lågstadielärare, det finns inte en chans att tappa bort sig. Varje moment byggs upp och introducerats innan det tar över, lappar över till nästa, sen nästa. Bitvis känns det hastat, som kom igen kan det inte bara få gå runt en stund, den där slingan är så bra, låt den va. Sen finns det enklare partier, lugnare låtar, lämnar han crescendokompositionen. Tack och lov, fast den funkar så bra.
Harsh Words ger mig ambivalenta fötter, får mig att tänka på tonårsångestpop (och det borde jag vuxit ifrån, borde han vuxit ifrån?). Men oron kan lugnas på hörn av internet där det står om den avsedd som en Elvislåt, att basen är nyckeln. Och då kan man ge sig tillåtelse att kvick gira för frågan om hur tunn rösten går på för att ge den delen av magen rätt som vill följa basen in och glömma samtiden och låta det stötiga blåset faktiskt vara allt man kan begära. Den återhållna sången kan bli frustrerande ("vill inte störa grannarna", "spela in snabbt och tyst" så flytta ner i källarn nu och skråla mer på inspelningarna) men den enskilda återhållsamheten kompenserad av många lager, körer, det har alltid varit del av grejen.
Vidare: Under A Silent Sea och den chockverkan den kan ha när technon kickar in. (Ok, kanske inte om man är förvarnad, jag hade bara hört den akustiskt (kolla: 12 min in) och trodde den var sån. Sen för uppmärksamma lyssnare - missa för allt i världen inte favoritdetaljen: I Lose It All-pianots lilla återkomst nånstans mellan 4 och 5.) Sen kommer I Got Lost, inspelad som skiss nästan blir musiken en märklig kontrast mot textens "where’s my Lord to look for me now?". Det klingande introt på Summers som svajar som Bröderna Lejonhjärta och sen går den på med den gamla trotjänarkombinationen av struttande och följsamt, med ett publikfriande munspel och lallande. Distant är enklare igen. Mörk och rasande stilig, med mest en massa trummor och prydligt lagda körer, som drar iväg med den bara nästan prydliga vansinneskören. Harm (långsam) är dramatisk med gitarrer och paraderar med musikreferenser jag inte kan (men jag hörde slutet av den som outro på Minnenas television). Den verkar vara skivans stötesten, vissa simply can not stand it, men jag har inga invändningar. Violent är stötig och ljuv och full till brädden.
Och Loney Dear drar igen dörren om Dear John med Dear John. "Sleep well tonight, tomorrow we’ll fight." Börjar försiktigt mjukt och strävar och drar sig uppåt, uppåt lika mjuk tills den på andra sidan blåsorkestern lallar som en vemodig musikaldiva ovan molnen och lämnar en, efter piano och orgel med ett sista studsigt eko.
Slutkläm? Jovars: Musik för den som vill manipuleras, knipa ihop ögonen och trumma med fingrarna. Som vill ta på sig hörlurarna, tänka ajajaj och studsa över plattläggningen.
(Här: myspacelyssna hela skivan, fin fransk radiolivetimme)
09.03.07 17:54 |
måndag 25 maj 2009
LONEY, DEAR @ SPACELAND
May 24th, 2009 · 1 Comment
It is fitting that Swedish singer-songwriter Emil Svanängen’s band Loney, Dear toured with Andrew Bird in January of this year. Both Bird and Svanängen are as much mechanics as musicians—those rare birds that tinker with sounds until they are pulled taught. (One can imagine either of them walking to school as children, whistling and running sticks along fences just to hear the noise.) Watching Loney, Dear perform at Spaceland on Saturday threw this truth into greater light than a simple listen to their latest (wonderful) album, Dear John.
Dear John is delicate and ornate, like a Russian porcelain egg, with dots and loops of music that circle back onto themselves. It’s a sad album, overall, with ragged bits of sorrow and song that range from traditional acoustic man-with-guitar-and-heartbreak à la Damien Rice to an edgier, synthetic melancholy evocative of Blonde Redhead. Carefully selected instrumentation builds to ecstatic crescendos. Some songs, like “Distant,” have such a pronounced dramatic structure that they seem plucked straight from the soundtrack of a film: Drum beats shake and rattle like those from a chase scene, and the use of organ-like piano sounds haunts the song, while voices like those from a young boys chorus lift the song into heights of Shakespearean sadness.
It was obvious that each song the band presented in concert had been painstakingly selected and revamped to fit the limited stage setup. When an audience member requested a song from an earlier album, Svanängen pointedly declined, quipping, “I used to like taking requests…” The keyboards generated electronic sounds resembling horns or the xylophone, and Svanängen occasionally used a voice modulator to give his pretty falsetto an electronic echo. He even got the audience to assist; rapt fans happily sustained a soft backbone of “ah-ah-ah’s” for “Saturday Waits.”
At another memorable moment, Svanängen stepped forward and sang a full verse of “Harm” nearly a cappella, with only the occasional vibration from his own acoustic guitar to accompany him. It was captivating and also savvy; even in a small venue like Spaceland and even with a short set, concert attendees can become jaded to the wonder of watching human beings performing on stage. When our frontman stepped back and the musicians around him resumed their playing, a sense of collective awe had hushed and replaced any residual din from people ordering drinks at the bar. In concert, somehow, the sadness of Loney, Dear’s music had disappeared, eclipsed in turn by the pure joy of witnessing such elegant craftsmanship. It reminds me of a lyric from the song “Summers”: “In a dream, I swam to the other side, and everything was different and the sun in my heart was light…” In the Looking Glass world of Loney Dear’s concert performance, everything was turned around a bit, and only for the better.
—Tara Everhart
May 24th, 2009 · 1 Comment
It is fitting that Swedish singer-songwriter Emil Svanängen’s band Loney, Dear toured with Andrew Bird in January of this year. Both Bird and Svanängen are as much mechanics as musicians—those rare birds that tinker with sounds until they are pulled taught. (One can imagine either of them walking to school as children, whistling and running sticks along fences just to hear the noise.) Watching Loney, Dear perform at Spaceland on Saturday threw this truth into greater light than a simple listen to their latest (wonderful) album, Dear John.
Dear John is delicate and ornate, like a Russian porcelain egg, with dots and loops of music that circle back onto themselves. It’s a sad album, overall, with ragged bits of sorrow and song that range from traditional acoustic man-with-guitar-and-heartbreak à la Damien Rice to an edgier, synthetic melancholy evocative of Blonde Redhead. Carefully selected instrumentation builds to ecstatic crescendos. Some songs, like “Distant,” have such a pronounced dramatic structure that they seem plucked straight from the soundtrack of a film: Drum beats shake and rattle like those from a chase scene, and the use of organ-like piano sounds haunts the song, while voices like those from a young boys chorus lift the song into heights of Shakespearean sadness.
It was obvious that each song the band presented in concert had been painstakingly selected and revamped to fit the limited stage setup. When an audience member requested a song from an earlier album, Svanängen pointedly declined, quipping, “I used to like taking requests…” The keyboards generated electronic sounds resembling horns or the xylophone, and Svanängen occasionally used a voice modulator to give his pretty falsetto an electronic echo. He even got the audience to assist; rapt fans happily sustained a soft backbone of “ah-ah-ah’s” for “Saturday Waits.”
At another memorable moment, Svanängen stepped forward and sang a full verse of “Harm” nearly a cappella, with only the occasional vibration from his own acoustic guitar to accompany him. It was captivating and also savvy; even in a small venue like Spaceland and even with a short set, concert attendees can become jaded to the wonder of watching human beings performing on stage. When our frontman stepped back and the musicians around him resumed their playing, a sense of collective awe had hushed and replaced any residual din from people ordering drinks at the bar. In concert, somehow, the sadness of Loney, Dear’s music had disappeared, eclipsed in turn by the pure joy of witnessing such elegant craftsmanship. It reminds me of a lyric from the song “Summers”: “In a dream, I swam to the other side, and everything was different and the sun in my heart was light…” In the Looking Glass world of Loney Dear’s concert performance, everything was turned around a bit, and only for the better.
—Tara Everhart
onsdag 20 maj 2009
http://www.bigtakeover.com/top-ten/Matthew-Berlyant-090517
#
Loney, Dear – Johnny Brenda’s (Philadelphia, PA) – May 6, 2009
Playing to a sparsely attended crowd on a rainy Monday night, Loney, Dear nonetheless impressed the hell out of me with a show heavy on material from their new album Dear John and with much of a rock-oriented, full-band structure than I’d ever seen them undertake in the past.
Loney, Dear – Johnny Brenda’s (Philadelphia, PA) – May 6, 2009
Playing to a sparsely attended crowd on a rainy Monday night, Loney, Dear nonetheless impressed the hell out of me with a show heavy on material from their new album Dear John and with much of a rock-oriented, full-band structure than I’d ever seen them undertake in the past.
Loney, Dear. Gotta love the Swedish folk. They love to tell stories about their experiences on tour in America. Lead singer Emil Svanängen recalls his day spent visiting the Sub Pop offices (and being very appreciative of them) and walking around memorizing the street names near the Crocodile.
Emil has this funny innocent way of leading the crowd to sing aloud (and sing softly), mostly the "na na na na la la la la" parts of his songs (ie on "And I Won't Cause Anything At All").
It was close to an hour and half set which was a real treat even though the encore was a little drawn out or pausing between songs and talking to his bandmates in Swedish.
The performance he gave was a good mix of pop songs that ebb and flow in tempo and mood. It's definitey notable on songs on super high fast singing in "I am John", the dance beats of "Airport Surrounding" to the vocal harmonies of "Ignorant Boy".
-Steve Louie, May 18, 2009
Emil has this funny innocent way of leading the crowd to sing aloud (and sing softly), mostly the "na na na na la la la la" parts of his songs (ie on "And I Won't Cause Anything At All").
It was close to an hour and half set which was a real treat even though the encore was a little drawn out or pausing between songs and talking to his bandmates in Swedish.
The performance he gave was a good mix of pop songs that ebb and flow in tempo and mood. It's definitey notable on songs on super high fast singing in "I am John", the dance beats of "Airport Surrounding" to the vocal harmonies of "Ignorant Boy".
-Steve Louie, May 18, 2009
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