Loney, Dear – ‘Loney Noir’ (Regal) Released 16/04/07

The latest musical offering to be exported directly from Sweden comes courtesy of Emil Svanangen, aka Loney, Dear. Like his musical counterparts Jens Lekman and Tobias Froberg, Loney, Dear is from the school of DIY home recording, making a name for himself through self-sold CDR’s and good old fashioned word of mouth. But unlike that great bastion of Swedish culture that is IKEA, his music is anything but easily assembled and flat-packed. With four self released albums to his credit, 2007 sees the re-issue of 2005’s 'Loney, Noir' on Regal, which at once justifies the hype and his place in glorious indie-folk pop splendour…and not an Allen key in sight.

Opening with ‘Sinister In A State Of Hope’ the album immediately takes on a “not another one of those!” melancholic feel. But the use of minimalist and expectant instrumentation soon overcomes any doubts and at the same time is the perfect introduction to Svanangen’s expertly executed and constantly evolving and unravelling mini-orchestration.

At once brutally honest and open, yet equally reserved and resigned, his dejected and vulnerable falsetto perfectly compliments a joyous man made romp through the outdoors and belies an unashamed love of woodwind, brass and organ to name but a few. Despite a free flowing feeling of musical hope, praise and expression, there’s an inherent lyrical and vocal sadness that is interlaced throughout Loney, Noir. The poignant ‘I Am The Odd One’ begins with an overpowering sincerity (“I’m sorry, honestly I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your day”) that immediately lends itself to intrigue whilst backed by a simplicity prepared to accept its fate. To underline the point, it’s interspersed with a regimental whistle straight from the pages of Boy’s Own, giving it purpose and a destination. An intricate fairy-tale of an album, Loney, Noir has a haunting ability to lodge itself into the subconscious. The slow burning, explosive, addictive hooks in tracks such as ‘Saturday Waits’, the varied anxious instrumentation and solitude in ‘Hard Days 1. 2. 3. 4’ and the playful ode to nervous new love in ‘I Will Call You Lover Again’ all have the effortless ability to stalk you for days on end.