Results tagged “lykkeli”

       

There was some excitement on the street before Lykke Li took the stage for a full house at the Showbox, so maybe that's why we felt out of sync with the slow-boil, drum-and-bass(ish) start to the concert. We'd wondered how Lykke Li would take to headlining at such a large venue, and the answer was stark shafts of light, atmospheric smoke, and a heavy hand on the bass end of the soundboard. It was miles away from the Swedish pop songbird we'd seen at the Triple Door in May of last year, but it grew on us, hearing the fierce, sweet, ear-candling pop lyrics of "Little Bit" and "Tonight" lofted over over a booming cataract of drums--and seeing a whole roomful of Seattle concertgoers dancing. Meanwhile, Lykke Li dervished her way around the stage, alternating between staring off with soulful eyes and brandishing various sticks at the cymbals, band, and anyone else who might have needed a little kick in the pants. She's touring with a set drawn from her album Youth Novels, which we have yet to grow tired of hearing--it's bracing to hear a twenty-something writing lyrics so idiosyncratically well in, for her, a foreign language. Even at the back the conversational rumble would die down, everyone's eyes glued to the stage, the Showbox's many bartenders with nothing to do but run a cloth over the bar until the next song ended.

DANCE DANCE DANCE: Pint-size Swedish ex-ballerina Lykke Li returns to Seattle for her largest venue yet, the Showbox at the Market. Last time we saw her, we said she has "an extra helping of cute and an idiosyncratic voice: breathy baby-girl ("Liddle bit in love wi' you," she sings, and your heart melts) mixed with Swedish soul. Her first full album is Youth Novels. Live, she's in perpetual motion, sashaying around the stage, swiveling her hips, one hand pushing the audience back, the other punishing a cymbal with a drumstick." We're not saying it's because her parents were hippies, but she's got a hell of an onstage work ethic.

So there we were, trudging down 15th Avenue East a little...not glumly, no, but resigned to the fact that we were walking down the street with two DiGiorno's for One--for One! like a knife slid under the ribs--in a plastic sack because we'd forgotten our canvas bag, along with a slice of double-chocolate cake because, well, we deserve it, and as we made our way past Sonic Boom we heard a voice carry out the open door and thought, Ha, that sounds like Lykke Li, upon which we recalled that Lykke Li was in town to sing at Neumo's tonight so we doubled back and peered inside and there she was, the magical little 22-year-old Swedish pop songstress, just starting "Little Bit," and dressed like a more sober-sided version of Avril Lavigne (i.e., less eyeshadow), then moving on to "I'm Good, I'm Gone"--"You can clap if you want," she said shyly, and so people did--before ducking off the little stage and disappearing, which freed us to continue on toward home and self-rising pizza, marveling over the wealth of experiences you can have any night of the week on 15th Avenue, some coming all the way from Stockholm.

SWEDISH SUGAR POP: Swedish songstress Lykke Li returns to Seattle to vamp and stamp and otherwise sex up her blend of hook-tastic bubblegum and Euro-artsong. Here's her video for her single "Little Bit," but we warn you that after listening to it, you will fall deeply in love with the very next person you see. That only lasts about 15 minutes, but trust us, it can get awkward. High-energy Britpop/electronica group Friendly Fires opens. This is definitely a dance-friendly evening.

     

That's what opener Anna Ternheim dubbed the Ternheim-Li-del Mar lineup at the Triple Door last night, the "Swedish girls tour." She was the solo singer/songwriter of the night, with a throaty, room-filling voice, a setlist stuffed with love and anti-love songs, and a guitar. (She also took over the grand piano.) "That one was about a girl who's a stalker," she mentioned off-handedly. "Any stalkers here tonight?" Her songs often ended surprisingly, in mid-flow. Twice she accompanied her iPod; a cover tune turned out to be Fleetwood Mac's "Little Lies," slowed to dirge-speed.