City Paper is not for tourists
It’s unlikely that Jens Lekman is the only musician to attempt to make a rhyme with “coochie coo,” but he’s probably the only one to get away with it. The Swedish singer-songwriter is also the only crooner who can write an entire album about first kisses, asthma inhalers, and losing a finger while slicing an avocado and pick up an international cult following in the process. With deadpan lyrics set against sunny melodies, Lekman has made a career with his awkward persona; his onstage gawkiness, complete with high-waist pants and dreamy babble, is enough to make any bookish girl swoon. But he may have crossed the schmaltz line on his latest album, Night Falls Over Kortedala, with grand gestures of timpani, orchestral swirls, and Hanson-esque doo-wop. Lekman’s ditched his all-girl backup band in crisp white dresses for a sort-of new band (with old friend Viktor Sjöberg) and some nu-metal-looking contraption called an Octopad—which, coincidentally, Linkin Park also uses. As Lekman says on the new album, “The best way to touch your heart is to make an ass of myself.” Lekman performs with Patrick Cleandenim and Viktor Sjoberg at 8 p.m. Thursday, Oct. 25, at the Black Cat, 1811 14th St. NW. $14. (202) 667-7960.