A fellow writer bud from New York got a simple value meal at McDonald’s here in Oslo. 28 dollars. I kid you not. Thank the Norse gods for pølse, that’s all I have to say.
By:Larm! Day three of three! The madness came to a head, with venues seriously pushing (or violating) fire codes, the music on this night, at least that which was heard by your interpid reporter, stretching form the sublime to the jaw-droppingly ridiculous.
Anna Järvinen was on my to-see list from the get-go. The swedish singer-songwriter came from out of nowhere last year with the pretty, rustic Jag Fick Feeling, a sung-in-Swedish record featuring a backing band comprised of none other than members of Dungen. If Anna sung in English, she’d be an instant darling of the Americana set, boasting the kind of gentle, sublime voice that warrants comparisons to Emmylou Harris as she does. But as in all great music, it can transcend language, and even though I had no idea just what the hell she was singing about, it hardly mattered, her set starting from gentle acoustic folk to full-on roots rock.
Heading from the VG Teltet to the charmingly dingy John Dee club, the din coming from inside was rattling the windows of the old building. Once inside, I was surprised to see a trio of small, raven-haired young ladies, led by a drop-dead gorgeous singer guitarist, delivering an absolutely pulverizing variation of Donnas-style hard rock, Who are they, and where are they from? “Kitos!” said the singer after the first song. Finland! Of course. Six miles north of the Arctic Circle, to be exact.That country likes their music loud and heavy, and this band, dubbed Stalingrad Cowgirls, displays more music muscle than most male bands of their like. Their debut album just hit stores here in Norway, and hopefully the rest fo the world will get it soon after. We have to. [player]
The one band that’s been mentioned almost as much as Lykke Li is Norwegian sensations Lukestar, whose second album Lake Toba is selling exceptionally well over here. Comparisons to Mew and Blonde Redhead have been bandied about, but these guys are more post-hardcore than anything, tightly executed and very catchy, the one ace card being a pudgy Black Francis look-alike with an unreal falsetto, falling somewhere between Greg Gilbert of Delays and the feller from Sigur Ros what don’t talk English. The album is led by the superb single “White Shade”, which went over huge with the punters, but the rest of the set had the band trying to sound more aggressive than they needed to be, “White Clouds” being the only moment where they made the jump from very good to astonishing. As it is, the Warped Tour crowd would love this, but as complimentary I mean that comment to be, that’s sort of beneath Lukestar, considering the promise they show on that one song. They’re not there yet, but greatness awaits. [player]
The night was drawing to a close, but on the way back in Sentrum Scene was hoppin’, so it was worth an investigation. It was easily the biggest crowd the 1,700 capacity venue had seen over the last three days, almost completely full from floor to balcony. And for whom? Super Family. Who? Just try to imagine this: a manic bespectacled lead singer who looks and acts like a cross between Gord Downie and Jarvis Cocker leading a septet, including two preening male dancers, that simultaneously rips off both Arcade Fire and the Killers to the point where newbies (i.e. us bewildered North American writers) are wondering just how much of it all is a gigantic piss-take. Granted, this is a part of the world that embraces kitsch rock, from hair metalers Wig Wam, to the costumed Lordi, to the demented genius of Turbonegro, but this spectacle was so over the top in its post-punk stick and overt gayness, that to see men who would otherwise come off as your average Linkin Park fan, go wild for this stuff, was simply logic’defying. In a way, you have to admire how well Super Family sells it all, but after three songs, it really started to wear too thin for comfort. Still, the big crowd ate it all up, and left the venue beaming. A group of us tired, jaded writers bemusedly watched as the happy kids exited the venue, off to raise hell in this lovely city that never seems to go to bed. [player]
“Would this go over in the States?”
“Not a chance.”
But to Super Family and their obviously strong cadre of followers, they couldn’t care less. It’s goofy, but it’s theirs, a perfect encapsulation of the likeable insularity of this part of the world, and to hell with the rest of the world if they don’t get it. In all honesty, you couldn’t ask for a more fitting end to easily the most well-run, enjoyable musical event yours truly has ever seen.