Jens Lekman, Deaf Institute (& Sandbar!), 2 August 2010

Bit of a treat today, here's a review of what sounds like it could be the gig of 2010 so far, by Mr Noggin....

For a whole week before this gig, I thought I was going to see an singer called Lens Yeckman – such was my criminal lack of knowledge about Swedish singer Jens. He was someone well and truly off my radar, his music was as alien to me as the music of Maurice Ravel or JLS. I think I half heard him the Friday before the big day in Saki Bar during their bi-monthly Underachievers Please Try Harder night; it brought to mind Jarvis Cocker singing a Belle and Sebastian number, with a slightly quirkier accent. This had the potential to be quite good, but I also had the nagging feeling that it might also be terrible.

August 2nd arrived. With Lazy Noggin away in London for a lavish wedding, it was up to me to stand in for her – I’d be the cultured lover of all things zeitgeist and twee – and then I’d report back to her, with sarcastic vitriol, how it was all the same old self aware indie bobbins, with added tweed, unkempt hair, and beads.

The Deaf Institute is an excellent venue. For a sauna. Bad start. It was hot in there – I could feel the sweat dripping down my back. Except it wasn’t mine – it was the person stood behind me. If you want to see a sea of unhappy yet shiny faces, then go to the Deaf Institute before a mildly popular gig. Or just spray paint a stranger silver.

And then Jens Lekman walked out with a gaggle of on stage beauties – male and female – they’re a lovely looking bunch – all cool and accessorised – with brass and string instruments. Needless to say, it was easy to forget about being 70% water when he appeared at the front – he won the crowd over with an effortless charm, a good-natured humour, and some bloody excellent tunes.

Tracks like the disco tinged The Opposite of Hallelujah, floating past like Tigermilk era Belle and Seb; blunt yet funny whimsical soul like A Postcard to Nina; and the heartbreaking The End of the World is Bigger than Love – flew by, seeming like songs I should have heard, should have had in my heart, and should have been singing along to like the rest of the audience.

Jens Lekman is hard to place – he’s pop without being embarrassing, he’s funk without needing marijuana, he’s northern soul without the dance moves. He’d probably slot in your CD collection nicely next to The Magnetic Fields, Kings of Convenience and Loney, Dear – yet he sounds utterly unique.

So there I was, happy, amazed, enchanted. And then the gig was over.

But no, Jens decided it wasn’t – he wanted more. And so did everyone else in the room. After a short break, her led us all over to Sandbar - a pied piper to us indie rats. This is where the true appeal of Jens shone through – he was alone, playing a little acoustic guitar, surrounded by cross-legged doe eyed fans, relying on his songs alone – and he had everyone singing along – he made us all feel like we were part of something special, something amazing – he brought down the barriers between musician and listener – we were all as one. Or maybe it just felt that way after the free booze laid on by the rather magnificent manager of Sandbar.

Jens was a true gent, staying way past 1am to sign autographs, pose for pictures, and engage in banter with people way more pissed than he was.

The only frustrating thing of the whole night was knowing that Lazy Noggin missed it all. Bloody London.

So the night ended, after a nice little lock in, some delicious red wine, and some excellent music – we’d hijacked Sandbar, and Jens, for long enough.

Much like this blog.