Lykke Li & El Perro del Mar - Chicago, IL

“Which are you from?” asks the middle aged man as he leans just a little too close.

“Pardon?” is the only reply I can muster and he hurries away.

Come to think of it, there are a lot of blonde haired people milling around Schubas tonight. I shrug it off and continue to drink my beer as the audience begins to file into the venue. Following the line past the doorman, I see that the three guys who make up Lykke Li’s band are already onstage. As Lykke comes out she immediately goes into the only song I know from her, “Dance, Dance, Dance.” Everyone in the room cannot take their eyes off of her Hayley Mills face and small frame. Lykke Li is magnetic. She fills the small stage with her presence, but it is not the spangled jacket and waggling shoulders dance move that keep people’s attention. Beneath the murmured and sugary sweet voice, that oftentimes sounds more like a baby cooing, is a set of pipes.

Although the majority of the songs are very bass and percussion heavy, the airiness of Lykke Li’s voice is not overpowered. The keyboardist has arranged his melodies to support Lykke’s mewing. The fair haired people surrounding the stage are fans. They know the pauses in the music and are hushed to the point where Lykke has to ask for response in the first before she moves to the next song.

“Hanging High” begins with a 50s interpretation of a caravan song that paints Lykke as a chanteuse with a simultaneously tribal and cherubic air. The carefully measured meter of her words adds to the charm of her performance. The only disheartening bit about the show as a whole is the use of backup tracks. For the songs where she does not bring Sarah Assbring (El Perro del Mar) onstage, Lykke Li occasionally uses dubbed vocals for heavy breathing noises and harmonies.

Another break in the music brings another beer and I fight my way through the crowd to get a real pint at the main bar. Back in the listening room, Sarah Assbring is setting the mood for her portion of the show by lighting some Nag Champa and switching to the yellow films. The first two songs of the set are acoustic solos filled with folk references but no passion. Whereas Sarah is technically the more accomplished singer of the two acts, I don’t believe her when she says that she is happy to be back in Chicago. Her frail frame moves stiltedly as she sings “I Can’t Talk About It.” The song, albeit it a good one, is probably most well known from the Anthropologie work soundtrack. This song has haunted me since last summer. It’s one of those songs that it is kitschy and wonderful and steeped in “Beach Blanket Bingo” until the three hundredth time you’ve heard it.

As El Perro del Mar comes to the middle of their set, Sarah invites Lykke back onstage to play keys and sing backup vocals: big mistake. Even though Lykke is sitting and Sarah is directly in my line of sight, I find myself craning my neck to see Lykke Li. The night waning and my eyes growing weary I start to make for the door when a voice pipes up from the front of the crowd and asks, “Can I dance on stage?”

“Who wouldn’t want to?” is the reply as she motions for him to come up for the last song.