There’s something uncanny about The Lion’s Roar from the very beginning, when there’s nothing more than minor-key acoustic guitar and a will-o’-the-wisp flickering between the trees. A tender yet hardened young woman sets the scene (”The pale morning sings/ of forgotten things”), and the air’s already thick with mythology. It’s the feeling you get when you look to the west- so beautiful it’s profoundly unsettling, and so profoundly unsettling it’s beautiful. There’s witchery afoot, and slavery, and plagues. Can’t blame us too much for being such goddamn cowards and fools, but God damn us anyway. And while God’s at it, God can damn itself for taking so much of our innocence before we could muster enough courage and wisdom to fill the void.
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“Swedish Americana” makes a lot of sense. Sweden totally gets America when it comes to pop, at least more so than other countries where English is a second language. America may not always get what Swedish pop has to offer us, like Robyn for instance, but Swedish pop sure gets us, all right.
First Aid Kit (sisters Johanna and Klara Soderberg) highlights just how kindred our nation’s Country Western & Southern Gothic spirits are to the land of ABBA. It’s not surprising that Flannery O’Connor’s friends thought she’d enjoy the films of Ingmar Bergman. So how great would it be if Loretta Lynn covered “Knowing Me, Knowing You”? And wouldn’t it be cool if Linda Ronstadt did an album of Jens Lekman songs? “Swedish Americana” ought to be a slightly bigger sub-genre than it currently is, and The Lion’s Roar ought to be a cornerstone of that sub-genre.