Lykke Li, The Sugar Club
12th June 2008

The Sugar Club is renowned for it’s acoustically rich surroundings, perfectly suited to showcasing the honeysweet voice of Swedish songstress Lykke Li. Her impressive vocal range was particularly apparent on the beautifully melancholic Hanging High, which Lykke consideratly dedicated to “the most heartbroken person in the room”. However, I can’t help but imagine how uncomfortable it must feel to take to the tiny stage at the foot of the theatre-style seating area that overwhelms the venue and be confronted with a bunch of be-trilbied scenesters with one resounding message held in their eyes: impress me. So it’s fortunate for Lykke Li that she’s as mad as a bag of spanners then isn’t it? Following her stupendous three piece band onto stage to the beat of Dance, Dance, Dance sporting a rather impressive giant drumstick and an array of musical paraphernalia adorning her chest like an elaborate necklace, Lykke proceeded to get involved with every aspect of the musical process from start to finish. Unlike the sultry-voiced but ultimately stoic El Perro del Mar (AKA Sarah Assbring) who played support with a sufficiently nonchalant air, Lykke utilised every inch of the tiny stage, grabbing drumsticks, bellowing into loudspeakers and tooting on kazoos like a Maori tribesman on speed. Her manic exuberance was catching and before long the solitary dancing couple at the bottom of the stairs were joined by the, until now, rather inhibited crowd. The set crescendo with radio favourite I’m Good, I’m Gone followed up with a loudspeaker intro to the infectiously catchy Breaking It Up.
Following a brief stage exit, defensively declaring ‘I’m a debut artist!’, Lykke and co. heeded calls for more, asking the crowd whether they wanted to dance or cry. Needless to say, there didn’t seem to be too many morose buzz wreckers in the house so Lykke improvised by performing ragga version of I’m Good I’m Gone and delighted the crowd by breaking into a rather impressive rap which, after a few seconds of dazed confusion, became apparent as A Tribe Called Quest’s Can I Kick It? The newly elated crowed voiced their appreciation for Lykke’s enthusiasm by replying with a resounding ‘Yes you can!’
AS the gig wound up, finishing on a high note and leaving the room buzzing with energy and hankering for just a little bit more, there was a general post-gig consensus that the we, the audience, had laid witness to something just a little bit special.