Jens Lekman

The live impact of certain artists has to be judged almost regardless of the quality of the musical performance. That performance can indeed show flaws of various kinds, but this has little to do with the intensity of the feelings that come off the stage and wash over the audience. Jens Lekman is one such artist — in fact, he's probably the best possible example of the concept just described. It's hard to think of another live show so easy to criticize in terms of how the songs are performed, yet one that, at the same time, manages to leave the audience with such deeply felt emotions.

This was the third time I'd seen Lekman live. On the previous two occasions the Swede had been backed by a fairly large band, complete with keyboards, strings, and everything needed to reproduce the sound of his records on stage. This time, however, our man shows up armed with just his acoustic guitar and backed solely by a drummer. The point about the technical limitations of the performance still stands, though: in the past, the band moved a bit too mechanically, especially through tempo and key changes; this time the issue is the excessive repetitiveness of both Jens's chords and the rhythmic accompaniment. The duo tries to work around the problem by playing only about a dozen songs in this stripped-down setup, relying instead on a heavy use of backing tracks for the following five or six; needless to say, that's too easy a shortcut to be let off the hook so lightly.

The great thing is that the audience approves of it wholeheartedly anyway, and beforehand had shown no sign of even considering the issues just mentioned, instead throwing themselves straight into wild displays of enthusiasm for their favorite artist. And mind you, this isn't blind fanaticism from people who just need their idol standing in front of them to forgive him everything: anyone, even a complete newcomer, would have been unable to resist the charm of a set that was nothing short of magnetic. There are several reasons behind this spell, though really only one can be put into words. I'm talking about Jens Lekman's voice: sweet, enveloping, delicate and impeccably clean, equally capable of drawing on the softness of the acoustic backing and of standing out with total ease above the slightly too loud volume of the backing tracks. The Swede is a walking masterclass in singing. The rest is genuinely hard to convey to anyone reading this who wasn't there: the balance between heartfelt candor and genuine warmth on one side, and irresistible charisma on the other, is something truly unique, and it brings everyone in the room, whether longtime fans or simply curious onlookers, to surrender unconditionally to Jens Lekman's irresistible art.

As for the specific songs performed, the set moved between old favorites, new tracks from the recent EP "An Argument With Myself" and a few other numbers likely destined for a forthcoming new album. Among the latter, "The End Of The World Is Bigger Than Love" is as fascinating as ever, even though it's been available as a free download for over a year now without ever appearing on any official release; among the new EP's songs, "Waiting For Kirsten" stands out in particular, both for its melody and its amusing lyrics; among the old warhorses, a "Black Cab" beautifully reworked in an intimate key and a "A Sweet Summer's Night On Hammer Hill" that immediately wins the crowd over both make a strong impression. When it comes to the backing-track songs, "The Opposite Of Halleluja" is especially fun, with Lekman putting on a classy bit of "air glockenspiel".

This is the last song before the encores, which the audience demanded with real fervor. As he always does at this point in the set, Jens comes back on stage alone and manages to be utterly captivating. He starts by warming hearts with "And I Remember Every Kiss", then revisits what has by now become something of a ritual, a "Pocketful Of Money" during which he has the crowd repeatedly sing the line "I'll come running with my heart on fire", layering melodies over that singalong that end up merging his voice with the audience's; finally, he grants many people's requests with "A Postcard To Nina". With the closing words "Yours truly, Jens Lekman", the artist bids a final farewell to his people, by now utterly lost in their love for him. Everyone leaves the club hoping another Jens Lekman concert comes around soon: there's always room for nights like this.

Photo by Diana Crippa

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