Den svensk popstjerne

Lykke Li is approximately 20 blocks away from me right now. This makes the third time she’s been to Portland in the past year. I haven’t seen her on any of these occasions, nor did I see her set at the Roskilde Festival this summer (as I probably ought to have done). In fact, I have as of today only ever heard two of her songs, for a grand total of maybe five plays. I never intended to actively avoid her, I was just never interested. And now she’s become one of my “records” -- like not having been to a movie theater in five years, not having driven a car in nearly three, and (this one is entirely without reason) absolutely, point-blank, no exceptions refusing to listen to the Long Blondes, even though all evidence points to a high probability of my liking them.

But that is that. I am always annoyed when small bands I like become wildly popular (the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, anyone?) so I’m probably the last person to start listening to someone simply because she’s the new Swedish sensation and therefore someone I should know about. So no Lykke Li for me. I’d take the snark and swagger of Ida Maria (Norwegian, yes, I know) over her any day. Or, staying Swedish, Robyn. How about that trip to Portland she promised she’d reschedule? Again -- any day.