Making a comeback earlier this year, Lena's new album is drunk on dance, but not without a contemplative trio of closing tracks to cure any hangover from the sublime club crusades. The first 7 tracks are so joyous, the final three take a down-tempo turn when the album has something of a power cut, which is worth it to finally arrive at the very special track 8. Lena and her emotive voice thrives in any setting: milking the Swedish pink pound or the whimsical acoustic benders to coax back everyone else.
The dramatically charged du följer väl med really gets this thing going. She's on fine vocal form, even if when spouting off "du följer fäl, du följer fäl, du följer fäl" like she's just bit her tongue. The lower tone is noticeable compared to her vintage prime, but the sheer euphoric ejaculation of the chorus is divine.
Arrving on a bed of piano keys and atmospheric synths, Live Tomorrow has a plaintive disco pulse as Lena comforts herself with lyrics that appeal to the environment around her to alleviate doubts of her own mortality. It's very Gloria Swanson meets Gina G meets someone who can sing and stuff. The way she emotes is sensational: "I don't like to wait" sounds like a command and regret simultaneously. The swirling disco pathos of the airy pause of the middle eight before she wails into the moonlight is a proper goosebumps moment.
bli galen is so fabulous it barely remembers to have a melody. Only a diva can keep you waiting for a full minute before deciding to do some singing. Devoting myself to words I don't understand, this is such an absorbing creation for something so throwaway in its essence.
Idiot is a dreamy blend of gentle keyboard treats and Lena's effortless diva treacle dripping all over it.
The shiny synthesized momentum of vart tog du vägen is gentle and the Moroder-esque rhythms is impossible to resist.
When the piano sounds trip over the campy disco elements and Lena yelps for the sheer glorious abandon of it all, igen och igen really ebbs, flows, throbs and spurts with all the dance-pop juices I could ever ask for. Undeniable.
The summit of the 7 track operation, världen snurrar is another masterstroke execution of her glamorous vocal flair and the fluid pulsating decadence of it all.
The abrupt shift into folk music is justified by the beauty of ett hjärta. Parts of it remind me of the pre-chorus to the Bluetones' Slight Return, parts of it remind me of My Guy (let's just say Whoopi Goldberg sang that one). If I had the time or self-pity I'd have a cry to it, it's so lovely.
Piano ballad botten is nådd is nice enought, with some wonderfully expressive deliveries (especially of the title lyric along with the addition of strings).nästasSäsong is more poised and more taken with the idea of having a chorus - one of longing and a drum beat to keep things moving in her 5 glasses later swept up fashion.
So the erogenous zones are most definitely the first gin-soaked disco vibes of the first 7 cuts, but overall the resulting pop is a huge score and the ballads sound like three gorgeous numbers she was keeping for a rainy day.
So much of what on offer here owes itself to soft dance-pop grooves melted into Rn’B inclinations, with the whole shebang given a mid-tempo house gloss. Think Cathy Dennis delivering quality album tracks as if her life depended on it. What Lena has going for is her strong, sultry voice, powerfully restrained and prone to getting hot under the collar with ad libs most divas would sell their souls for.
The clear stand out for me is the hypnotic Give Me Your Love, piano keys rippling on top of some intoxicating keyboard riffs and typically flashy dance drum-machines clattering to make the most of the seething rhythm. Or something euro-dancey along those lines. It's a deluxe disco showcase, and one where Philipsson finds her best form. Immersed in its Moroder-esque synthesized votlage, the title track is no less alluring.
Elsewhere, For The Love Of You is a phoney sentiment (as if she'd give up ANYTHING for her man), but the sheer performance elevates the competent song-craft with her innate diva allure. There's a cover some song called Take My Breath Away: Lena naturally doesn't even break a sweat, and although the contemporary dance make-over gets going in a subtle manner, it's nothing more than a mildly titillating curiosity. On Make It Last, an after-hours torch song, the party has finished, but Lena is set adrift, getting her sax-appeal on with some lovelorn emotions.
Overall, solid and sporadically impressive.
This is an album at times incredibly exciting, exalting, emotional or else just explosive. Singer Lena pushes herself into emotional extremes that I’ll never understand without enrolling in a Swedish night class. Drenched in romantic intensity and soaring vocal flourishes, I was not expecting something this advanced from a second album by someone so young (the only person younger at the time would have been Kelly Llorenna).
The well-executed Saknar dej innan du går is romantic, expressive and sharply melodic. Lena’s radiant (and at times slightly haughty) delivery of the chorus is restrained and just gorgeous. The track itself is atmospheric and uplifting. The folky texture juxtaposed with an ornate dance setting is a winning formula.
Dansa i neon is immediately stark and hypnotic. With a trembling chorus that ignites into something ABBA would have been proud of, the production values are fully immersed in Lena's heart-felt tumult. I don't understand a word, but I'm thrilled to hear it.
Performing her seriously experienced feelings on Du är mitt liv goes over my head, but the performance is ravishing. The salsa textures are a climax and a half.
In such a torrid climate of humid pop romance fever, it's only expected some sort of slow number would wash ashore. Regn faller is poignant in ways I'll never realize, the production is minor and yet decorated with synths, ripples and a slightly Disney-esque odor (think more Aerial in a curtain-rope ensemble than Ursala all the while in a black ensemble). This could easily have been serviced to Tina Arena, but Lena lends her untouchable charisma and makes it her own.
Within two seconds of Den ende’s unmistakable intro, I had gasped "OH MY GOD". This really is something. Lena is alert and bellowing like a pro, the bass is throbbing and trumpets blow their load in expert fashion. Resign yourself to how amazing she is.
Cheerio wouldn’t have been my choice for a single, and singing "cherry o" sounds more like a new brand of yoghurts, but the delivery is pure theatre. Maudlin for some, by the time the guitar spikes itself in the middle it's somewhat dramatic. Pushing her pipes in heroic fashion.
Sommartid has a bracing, dramatic energy.
Wistful midtempo Ah vad jag längtar is also fairly good.
Kom du av dej has a mostly delicate vocal propelled by gorgeous 80s electronic noises. It really is impressive. Lena bides her time before wailing whenever it sounds best to. During the chorus I keep singing Sandi Toksvig though.
Om jag fick is incredibly pretty. The shimmery keyboards soon build like a blocked toilet and the schlock gets overflowing with foreign matter (of the heart).
Säg det nu is a thick mix of footloose dance rhythms. A familiar-sounding arrangement, one of the only times there is a mere hint to aping other people’s sounds.
The harder discotheque edges of Det går väl an inhabit yet more dazzling dance dimensions
Jubilant lamentations of the disco-driven ballad Kärleken är evig lay all her love on the discothèque. Stylishly emphasizing melancholia on a triumphant sounding throb, to throw such a highlight this far into an album illustrates the epic scale we are dealing with here.
Jag känner is more straight-up and anthem, sounding hysterical without forgetting to be catchy. Her wonderfully theatrical flair is utilized to full effect: a wounded wail, a soothing coo, a gasp. On this chorus I sing the name Kris Jenner.
Yet more invention thrown into her dance-pop cocktail formula, Jag sänder på min radio is hauntingly jaunty and uplifting. Shaken, stirred and drugged up to the 9s.
My mind was truly boggling as to how she was going finish herself off. Surprisingly, not on her own. Roping in someone male, who can sing and I couldn't google the name of, on Löpa linan ut, I was hoping for a dance-pop synth-driven monster: instead the mood is more pensive and mid-tempo, but she still manages to end the album on a high note. Its percussion sections sound like the fizzy hook to the Pointer Sisters' Automatic.
Truly brilliant album: sometimes dance-pop, sometimes drunk on ballads with a kick to them, but always rich and exquisitely executed. Invigorating.
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