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Published in The National Post on May 3, 2005

The biggest rock stars in their world: Sweden's Mando Diao refuses to be less than massive

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.







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