Let them soundtrack yours...
Picture the scene. [a]Soundtrack Of Our Lives[/a]
have just finished their encore. Their frontman, Ebbot Lundberg – a mongrel cross between Jesus Christ, Hagar The Horrible and a Gregorian Monk – is lying on the floor, surrounded by an awe-struck crowd. He’s wearing a Kaftan, and smearing the blood that’s trickling down his hand over his face. As you can probably gather, this Swedish sextet don’t do boundaries.
With[a]Soundtrack Of Our Lives[/a], there’s no barrier, physical or imagined, between audience and performer. The band play like the freaks they clearly are, Ebbot wading into the crowd to stare down non-believers, adopting Christ-like poses, and during ‘21st Century Rip Off’, making a beeline for the heart of the moshpit. In fact, he out-moshes them all, still manages to belt out all the words, even when his microphone gets unplugged. No bother. He just yells: [I]”COME ON!”[/I] he cries,[I] “COME ON!”[/I]?
Lyrically, [a]Soundtrack Of Our Lives[/a]
don’t just disregard the boundaries – they don’t even know where the boundaries are. It’s a soundtrack of space, time, love, death, fear, sex, joy and passion. With top tunes to boot. Taking the Rolling Stones, 60’s West Coast psychedelia and Big Star as their starting point, TSOOL is a brilliantly exhausting whip around to 70’s prog rock, Mercury Rev, Syd Barrett’s house – and snugly back to 1967 again.
Beginning as sombrely as a CofE service, the spine-tingling Doors-alike organ of ‘Broken Imaginary Time’ soon gives way to the gospel-rock pout of ‘Infra Riot’. ‘Still Aging’ is a love song written “a hundred thousand years ago.” And ‘Tonight’ is Tom Waits’ last stand in Las Vegas – the most beautiful thing to come out of Sweden since Britt Ekland.
By the time ‘Nevermore’ and ‘Galaxy Gramophone’ roll around, everyone’s a convert. There are few bands today that shine as brilliantly as[a]Soundtrack Of Our Lives[/a]. Let them soundtrack yours.