Those Valley boys again.
Aaaah, Mando. When other bands fail to deliver, when they grow boring, or take overly long breaks, Mando Diao releases another album, Never Seen the Light of Day, thirteen months after Ode to Ochrasy. Those thirteen months have been spent more or less constantly on the road. They wrote most of the album in a few days around Christmas and recorded it in something like two weeks in january.
And I'm blown away. It's perfect. PERFECT. So goddamn beautiful. Not the spitfire-like energy of their three previous albums, but their songs are getting more gorgeous with every album. Perfect guitar-driven pop, the kind of songs that could buy Paul McCartney a sizeable chunk of northwestern Europe (if I'm allowed to steal a metaphor from the late great mr Douglas Adams). Admittedly, a large part of why it's so beautiful is new producer Björn Olsson's arrangements, which are reminiscent of Swedish folk-music and The Coral-like menace. Paired with the guitars, the melodies and the drive it's a slice of classic pop heaven. And then there's the voices. Björn and Gustaf are, hands down, two of the finest male rock singers of our generation. I dare you to find someone with the same scratchy energy Gustaf has, or someone with the soul and sheer power Björn has. But most importantly, they're in the same band. The sum of their combined talent is so much bigger than the parts, much like The Libertines (whom I'm stuck on comparing them to, because they're the only other band-of-our-generation who plays in the same league as Mando). And much as that band, Mando Diao embodies the popular music-traditions of their country in the best way. Anglicised, americanised, but with a soul of its own, a soul of forests, dark, cold winters and summers of perpetual light.
God, I love this band. So much it hurts.
And I'm blown away. It's perfect. PERFECT. So goddamn beautiful. Not the spitfire-like energy of their three previous albums, but their songs are getting more gorgeous with every album. Perfect guitar-driven pop, the kind of songs that could buy Paul McCartney a sizeable chunk of northwestern Europe (if I'm allowed to steal a metaphor from the late great mr Douglas Adams). Admittedly, a large part of why it's so beautiful is new producer Björn Olsson's arrangements, which are reminiscent of Swedish folk-music and The Coral-like menace. Paired with the guitars, the melodies and the drive it's a slice of classic pop heaven. And then there's the voices. Björn and Gustaf are, hands down, two of the finest male rock singers of our generation. I dare you to find someone with the same scratchy energy Gustaf has, or someone with the soul and sheer power Björn has. But most importantly, they're in the same band. The sum of their combined talent is so much bigger than the parts, much like The Libertines (whom I'm stuck on comparing them to, because they're the only other band-of-our-generation who plays in the same league as Mando). And much as that band, Mando Diao embodies the popular music-traditions of their country in the best way. Anglicised, americanised, but with a soul of its own, a soul of forests, dark, cold winters and summers of perpetual light.
God, I love this band. So much it hurts.