Loney, a review

hindsight might be 20/20, but my foresight was plenty fine on Wednesday night apparently, when I decided to opt out of watching the footie game and go to Loney, Dear's concert. In the end Liverpool lost the game, and I witnessed a magical concert. The venue, Monto Water Rats (um...cool name?) was basically the back room of a theater-like bar, so big it was not. But I've been to enough concerts to know that a good gig can happen in any circumstances, on the biggest stage as well as in the dingiest setting. The two opening acts, whose names I'll pretend I did not hear, had their moments, but they kinda seemed like they were put here by the record label to get some experience under their belt, as their relation to Loney's music was imaginary at best. With their sets were done Loney, Dear frontman Emil Svanängen casually strolled upon the stage with his band and, after some equally casual instrument set-up launched into an opening salvo of poppy goodness that went on relentlessly until the end of their curtain-call. This was the sort of concert that, for lack of better words, makes you glad to be alive. Not because it's the most crazily inventive thing you've ever heard, but simply there's a group of people onstage playing their hearts out for their pleasure as much as their audiences, with lyrics that anyone having been in a relationship can relate to (aka everyone on planet Earth and beyond). This band does pop music right: as something that's cute, but not boring and overdone. They incorporate just enough folk and other various influences for the mix to achieve maximum palatability, seemingly without even trying.

Despite not having been "discovered" until this year, Emil has been making songs for a few years now. And so the setlist was a pleasant mix of the 4 albums he has put out, with a very easygoing rapport between the band members that added to the overall feeling of camaraderie. All of which the audience gladly ate up, grooving through the dancier numbers like I Am John and observing with rapt attention during the incredible version of In With These Arms. To be honest I was pretty giddy myself, and probably would have clapped along to a song if the band had started doing it, even though that's definitely my least favorite concert cliche of all time.
And since the new and improved me now remembers to carry around his digicam, I had the presence of mind to record a few digital memories for posterity.

Ignorant Boy, Beautiful Girl


Saturday Waits


Carrying a Stone