First thing: this is one of the most repulsive-sounding albums I've ever heard in my life. I tried to think of a nicer word, but I couldn't. There's something about the combination of Lekman's smooth, Vegasy voice, the maudlin orchestration and electronic beats that makes me feel ill. It's like some sort of terrible inversion of Tindersticks' music--but the gulf in quality between these two artists' music is so vast I won't comment any more on it. As the first track came on my first thought was:
is this a joke? It sounds like a Ween parody of showtune music, except there's no parody here: it's done straight. And it's no good. It's as though this music, which is so awful nobody would question its being sold for twenty-five cents in a used bin had it been released in 1972, is supposed to suddenly become good when it's being done by an attractive, Pitchfork-approved singer-songwriter. There is exactly one good track on this album and that's "A Postcard to Nina"; the lyrics are clever (if a bit annoying when coming out of Lekman's mouth) and the chorus is actually well-written and catchy. The production is just as bad as the rest of the album, sucking every bit of life and spontaneity out of the music, but a good song is a good song. The rest is terrible. This album is like a dentist's drill to me, like nails on a chalkboard, like a cat being strangled, etc. Maybe it's me. And I
liked "Black Cab"! Why do so many artists, on attempting to emulate Scott Walker, choose to emulate the first half of his career and not the latter half?
MY RATING:
0.8
Jens Lekman - "And I Remember Every Kiss"
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