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Loney, Dear made a stop in Brooklyn, New York on May 05, 2009… and, of course, our Kate G is all over this show.
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For years, my Scandinavian Holy Trinity has been set in stone: Jens Lekman, Sondre Lerche, and Erlend Øye. These three men embody everything I love about Nordic pop: catchy melodies, depressing lyrics, and above all, debonair looks (in a lanky, pale, probably-got-beat-up-after-school kind of way). But after last night, I may have to add another Swede to that equation: Emil Svanängen, a.k.a. Loney, Dear.
I had previously seen Loney, Dear (Yes, it’s “Loney,” not “Lonely.” Sorry, Spellcheck.) at Soundfix Lounge, a far more smaller, intimate venue. It was a lovely show, but I wondered if it would translate well into the much bigger Music Hall of Williamsburg.
Things started off slowly with opener, Lia Ices. Her gradual but fierce, piano-centric ballads reminded me of slightly more subdued Frida Hyvönen. In a way, her sparse instrumentation and morose lyrics set the mood for the rest of the night. The audience remained politely quiet through most of her set, as Ices maintained an enchanting, often hypnotic stage presence. The whole girl-with-a-keyboard outfit has been done several times before, but there’s something strangely haunting about Ices that sets her apart from other singer-songwriters.
The solemn mood was somewhat lifted when Loney Dear took the stage, opening with the steady-building track, “I Was Only Going Out,” from his latest release, Dear John. Several other songs followed a similar format, and in the larger setting with his full band, the tracks were able to flourish into lush, sweeping mini-symphonies.
Svanängen’s band (which included a keyboardist who eerily resembled a somber Andy Samberg) contributed greatly to the “bigger” sound not usually associated with Loney Dear’s brand of thoughtful pop. Whether it was the more electronic tracks from Dear John or the earlier, orchestral tracks from Loney Noir and Sologne, the band added an exciting, almost urgent edge to Svanängen’s confessional lyrics.
My initial concern of Loney Dear’s quiet demeanor clashing with a larger venue was quickly put to rest. Svanängen has a knack for endearing and warmly funny stage banter, and within moments, the audience was smitten. He even managed to pull of the impossible: an audience sing-along that was not completely awful. Choosing the simple na-na-na-na chorus from “The Meter Marks OK,” Svanängen led the audience like a junior high choir teacher. Considering that the crowd that night mostly consisted of PBR-slinging, hipper-than-thou Brooklynites – it was quite a feat.
Of course, none of it would have been possible without Svanängen’s unassuming and shyly charismatic personality. Whether it was through his heartfelt lyrics or random witticisms, he gave off an immediate sense of likability. It is somewhat telling that the two grown men (both in vaguely corporate attire) behind me had the following conversation midway through the set:
>>>
For years, my Scandinavian Holy Trinity has been set in stone: Jens Lekman, Sondre Lerche, and Erlend Øye. These three men embody everything I love about Nordic pop: catchy melodies, depressing lyrics, and above all, debonair looks (in a lanky, pale, probably-got-beat-up-after-school kind of way). But after last night, I may have to add another Swede to that equation: Emil Svanängen, a.k.a. Loney, Dear.
I had previously seen Loney, Dear (Yes, it’s “Loney,” not “Lonely.” Sorry, Spellcheck.) at Soundfix Lounge, a far more smaller, intimate venue. It was a lovely show, but I wondered if it would translate well into the much bigger Music Hall of Williamsburg.
|
Lia Ices
photo: Laura
|
The solemn mood was somewhat lifted when Loney Dear took the stage, opening with the steady-building track, “I Was Only Going Out,” from his latest release, Dear John. Several other songs followed a similar format, and in the larger setting with his full band, the tracks were able to flourish into lush, sweeping mini-symphonies.
|
Loney Dear
photo: Laura
|
My initial concern of Loney Dear’s quiet demeanor clashing with a larger venue was quickly put to rest. Svanängen has a knack for endearing and warmly funny stage banter, and within moments, the audience was smitten. He even managed to pull of the impossible: an audience sing-along that was not completely awful. Choosing the simple na-na-na-na chorus from “The Meter Marks OK,” Svanängen led the audience like a junior high choir teacher. Considering that the crowd that night mostly consisted of PBR-slinging, hipper-than-thou Brooklynites – it was quite a feat.
Of course, none of it would have been possible without Svanängen’s unassuming and shyly charismatic personality. Whether it was through his heartfelt lyrics or random witticisms, he gave off an immediate sense of likability. It is somewhat telling that the two grown men (both in vaguely corporate attire) behind me had the following conversation midway through the set:
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Guy #1: I haven’t been this happy since I was a kid.
Guy #2: This is just beautiful. Beautiful.
Guy #1: I know. I just want to… touch him.
Loney Dear at Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn (05 May 2009)
photo by Laura
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