Inga Liljestrom
Monday, I'm in love.
Turned up fairly early, but it just so happens a whole room of people had the same idea. Luckily I still managed to get in, let alone get a good seat.
Inga, back from an European adventure, plays an intimate apartment show before a recording session, backed by electric guitar, violin, double bass and drum kit. Occasional accordion.
Some old favourites, some new numbers, about wolves and dogs, some bare acoustic numbers, "black is the colour of my true love's hair", some louder, more pacy tunes. If you had to be critical you could say she was treading similar grounds. But when what you do is so magical, so captivating, so unique, it could be foolish to change anything. Ultimately it was still magical music that had the audience holding their breath at the end of each song, partly from not knowing whether the song was finished, but mostly I like to think it was from the stunning beauty of the performances. Not just amazing singer but a collective of skilled musos working off each other. So good I'd been hassling her label Groovescooter to record a show for keepsakes.