When Swedish guys cry, their tears turn into little dollops of cute. That’s the only (only!) answer for how the music of Emil Svanängen, a/k/a Loney, Dear, seems to conjure only smiles and pleasant sighs, even as the mild-mannered Swede spends the majority of his home-recorded albums rending his solitary heart into the shape of a corkscrewed dishrag. Dear John, Loney, Dear’s latest, peps up the production and aligns Svanängen’s heart tremors with hummable melodies even more often than before. Thanks, man. Now, somebody give this dude a big bear hug and daub his cutes with a Kleenex. With Asobi Seksu and Anna Ternheim.
Thu., Oct. 15, 8:30 p.m., 2009
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on October 13, 2009