Lekman had lengthy corresponded with writer David Levithan, who co-wrote the 2006 novel Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, earlier than they collaborated on songs for a novel, additionally referred to as Songs for Different Folks’s Weddings, a couple of fictional however acquainted wedding ceremony singer. However then, somewhat than simply recording the songs he wrote for the e book, Lekman went additional, delving into the characters’ POVs to create a Sinatra-inspired standalone musical. Appreciating the ensuing album isn’t contingent on the e book—it’s pure Lekmanalia. However it’s contingent on how a lot pleasure you possibly can stand. If the file has a defect apart from the preciousness that Lekman, to his devotees, turns into an indispensable advantage, it’s the whopping size. My nervous system simply can’t endure 17 tracks of uncut Jens without delay; it’s a giddy squee! sustained for 80 minutes. However it has selection and inspiration all through, and it really works nice when taken in two chunks, one spinning a relationship collectively and the opposite gently tugging it aside.
The story traces the arc of the romance between J, the Lekman proxy, and V. They meet at a marriage the place all of the friends are dressed as songs (he’s “Raspberry Beret,” she’s “Loopy in Love”), and after taking a capsule that tastes like hairspray, they fall into the playful connection that can outline their intimacy. It’s about being in love whereas additionally being love’s outsider, each participant and observer, a cut up that blurs the road between life and music—as Lekman adores doing. When V strikes abroad, searching for area, J begins reserving gigs simply to be close to her. All through, V is powerfully sung by Matilda Sargren, whom Lekman recruited by means of a youth orchestra in his hometown. V has the final phrase on their relationship, and J learns that his music’s objective is to not bottle permanence however to rejoice connection, nonetheless fleeting.
The music has as many moods as love does: now gentle and irrepressible, now crackling with an erotic cost, then turning tentative or questioning, cozy or desolate. Duets peel off into monologues; what was joyous returns as profound. Lekman’s storytelling is exceptionally detailed and humorous, sort of like a Swedish David Sedaris, and his wedding-singer avatar offers him a refrain of toothsome characters and milieus to weave by means of J and V’s evolving dynamic. “GOT-JFK” kicks off an ingenious suite set at a performance-art wedding ceremony in Brooklyn; later J finds himself at a singles desk in Leipzig with “two sisters who appear like Patty and Selma from The Simpsons/An aged man whose lungs sound like a damaged whistle/And a person who’s the embodiment of a full blown incel.” We come to comprehend that Lekman’s aspect hustle, somewhat than taking away from his songwriting, should inestimably feed it.
