It sounds absurd. Hell, it is absurd. The co-frontman of a relatively
obscure Swedish band - one he admits trades heavily in clichés -
claiming his group to be "more important" than rock's most beloved
royalty.
"I mean, the Beatles and Bowie - they're fine bands," Mando Diao's
Gustaf Noren assessed in a recent chat. "But kids don't go out and see
them live, and it takes away loads of their importance from the rock
scene. That's why we're here, and why Mando Diao is more important
today. You need to see bands live."
It's an enormous reach, obviously. But buried in all that bravado,
shared by fellow singer/guitarist Bjorn Dixgard and the rest of Noren's
bandmates, might be a tiny grain of truth.
For the record, Mando Diao - which pulls into Vancouver this week - is
not more important than the Beatles or David Bowie. It doesn't even
approach the cultural relevance of Oasis or the Libertines - the two
British bands that it sounds most like, despite Noren's insistence that
he's barely familiar with the latter. But as it demonstrated with an
explosive set at Toronto's Horseshoe Tavern last Friday, it does have an
essential role to play.
Every once in a while, we need someone to remind us of the raw,
infectious power of rock 'n' roll. Not the merits of lyrical prowess,
in-studio experimentation or challenging genre hops. Just the pure
adrenaline rush that comes from seeing a band that's ferocious, sexy,
testosterone-heavy and maybe a little dangerous take ownership of the
stage.
"When you feel like a rock star, you become high like a 10-storey
building," Noren said over the phone. "When you feel that people have
paid for tickets to see you and they know the album ... your
self-confidence is huge, and you can't help but put on a f---ing show."
It's not as though Mando Diao is playing to stadium-sized audiences. In
Toronto, it was more like a couple hundred keeners - probably the case
most places, since they've only gone beyond a cult following in
continental Europe and Japan. But however modest the venues, they carry
themselves like they're the biggest band in the world. And for the hour
they're on stage, trading in grand arena-rock gestures and brimming with
so much energy they're practically bursting out of their skins, you can
almost believe that's what they are.
It's owing, partly, to having not one but two charismatic frontmen -
either of whom could easily lead a band on his own. Although on record
Dixgard (who sounds uncannily like a Scandinavian Noel Gallagher) seems
to be the mellower of the two, he easily matches Noren's aggressive edge
live.
Their working-class background probably helps, too. Noren, boasting that
their hometown of Borlange has Sweden's highest crime rate, contends
they're willing to work harder on the road than the "spoiled" bands
they're competing with. ("We're used to nine-to-five, not the champagne
and the cocaine" was the way he put it, quickly clarifying that they do,
in fact, "allow drugs and everything.") Based on the amount of sweat
flying from their heads on stage, that work ethic seems genuine.
But their secret weapon is writing songs that sound massive. On disc,
the band has yet to completely find its groove: Noren acknowledges that
its debut, Bring Em In, is such an "unbelievably badly recorded album"
that he can hardly stand to listen to it, and that recent follow-up
Hurricane Bar is a little overproduced. But on stage, they achieve a
fusion of the first album's punky edge and the second's glossier finish
that makes virtually every song - not just standouts like Paralyzed and
You Can't Steal My Love - come off like an anthem.
The lyrics, reflecting a modest grasp of English, aren't poetic. The
gestures aren't original. But the show - from the moment they take the
stage to echoing feedback, open with the high-voltage Cut the Rope, cut
off a minute in to scream their band's name like a war-cry and move on
to the next - achieves exactly what they set out to do.
"It's not about having a unique sound," Noren said before the Toronto
show. "This music - it won't change your life. It will just make you
feel on top of the world."
Sometimes, that's an important thing for music to do.