What do Spiritualized, Bel Biv Devoe, and Robert Palmer have in common? No, really, it's not a trick question, we promise! They're all on the soundtrack to Pineapple Express, and we're giving away not 1 but 2 of 'em. Why? Because we *heart* our readers, along with most Rogen/Apatow endeavors. Just email abbey@supmag.com and in the meantime feast your eyes on all the 'various artists' included- it's kind of like her head blew up all over the place and scraped it together for a playlist:

Speaking of our head blowing up, we totally bumped into Huey Lewis on his way out of the Lissy Trullie gig the other night. It was at the opening party for Doug Aitken's new photo book 99 Cent Dreams. This is the part where we mention that it took place in the West Side Gentlemen's Club... which isn't very gentlemanly if you catch our drift. We can't decide which is more surreal- seeing an androgynous openly gay singer songwriter play guitar perched at the end of a stripper runway, or physically smashing into the man, they myth, the legend behind this (the dress, rubber shark fin, and flimsy plot are sooo wrong it's sooo right) getting chased by cameramen on the way out of a strip club on 10th Avenue:

APES & ANDROIDS ///
BOWERY BALLROOM, NYC ///
MAY 30, 2008 ///
WORDS: DIANE COHEN ///
PHOTOS: CLAIRE SHEPROW ///

You know that crazy feeling one has when on the verge of sensory overload? The lights are flashing, the music is frenzied and the decision must be made: fight or flight? Provided one resolved to tough it out, allow their eyes dilate, and embrace all that is righteous and glow-in-the-dark, the result would be an act that takes showmanship to the the brink of spinal tap, and then decides to throw in 8-foot tall, stilted unicorns, just for good measure.

Immediately following famed couch-dweller Reggie Watts, Apes & Androids appeared to deliver a set that proved they're worth all the recent the hype. Each song provided further, more enthusiastic confirmation of every comparison ever made about the group; a tight velvet halter jumpsuit and make up served as a nod to Mr. Ziggy Stardust, and the strange synth sounds, combined four-part vocal harmonies, were a modern, MST3K-worthy ode to the rock operas of Queen. The band, in a shower of confetti and streamers, set the bar for a high-energy performance right from the beginning, but hit their stride mid-set upon bringing out the drums for "Golden Prize."

From there, great music performance only further combined with great showmanship when the lights were killed and green glow sticks and luminescent beach balls were tossed over the crowd. Followed by unicorns on stilts with glowing green eyes being lead into the crowd by silver spandex-attired women to perform choreographed dance and lady, also in silver, performing with a lighted hula hoop on stage, these performance elements didn't outshine the music being so ardently played, they were just a physical manifestation of the crowd's delight in the spectacle at hand. The show ended in a swell of magnificence, as a robed "choir" took the stage to perform the final song, "Hot Kathy," followed by the chorus from "Hey Jude." Peppered with confetti and laced with streamers, glowsticks, spandex, faux-fur and unstoppable showmanship, Apes & Androids delivered to the sold out crowd at the Bowery Ballroom what is sure to be one of the most frenzied, whimsical shows of the summer. And they didn't even smudge their eyeliner doing it.

Deadly is putting on it's first official London party and it's an all night bash at The Papermill, Shoreditch.

'Sup alumni The Virgins (and also one of the hottest bands in New York, currently touring with the likes of Band of Horses and Black Kids) are headlining, with support from London up-and-comers Invasion (featuring members of Chromehoof), thrashing out Sabbath-style stoner rock. Deadly Management stars, Buraka Som Sistema and Drop The Lime take charge of the decks along with Deadly friends Midnight Juggernauts and the Beeper man himself, Herve.

DEADLY PEOPLE.

The Virgins (Live)
Herve
Buraka Som Sistema (DJ Set)
Midnight Juggernauts (DJ Set)
Drop The Lime
Invasion (Live)
Plus very special guests…

Saturday 19th July 2008, 10pm – Late
The Papermill, 2-6 Curtain Road, Shoreditch London EC2A 3NQ

Only 200 tickets are available, and they're just £8 each at Gigantic.com http://www.gigantic.com/gigantic/event_gc02_6398.html / £10 on the door.

Hollerrrrr.

JOSEPH ARTHUR ///
VAGABOND SKIES ///
LONELY ASTRONAUT ///
WORDS: RYAN MILLAGER ///

“Don’t know where I’m going,” are the first lyrics heard on Joseph Arthur’s latest EP, but listen closer, because Arthur may know exactly where he’s headed: Vagabond Skies is the third of four summer EPs that lead up to a full album in September. I have not listened to the other EPs, but with Vagabond Skies Arthur has assembled a collection of six songs that exude restlessness with the here and now, as if he were at risk of falling behind (“Slow Me Down”) or getting too far ahead (“It’s Too Late”). But if he is a lost wanderer, he remains self-assured and ready to stick to his guns nevertheless. Tough love for everybody else: “Riddle me this / What the hell’s your name?”

Musically, Joseph Arthur exhibits country/western- and gospel-influenced indie rock that rises well above typical singer-songwriter repertoire. Although the EP is largely acoustic, Arthur has a fondness for interesting and unexpected sounds, the most common of which is his own uneven voice layered in octaves and harmonies throughout each track. Two extremes stand out: “Second Sight” juxtaposes shimmering strings and guitar with ominous synth and distortion, while “She Paints Me Gold” is the most transcendent of the collection (bring on the reverb and piano chords!), a rare moment of ecstasy in the midst of the artist’s restlessness.

I say, if you’re in the mood for some slightly weird acoustic indie, go ahead and listen to these songs. They’ll either be a great primer for Arthur’s upcoming album or a sampler of the artist that’s just right for your wandering nights.

THE DODOS ///
INTERVIEW WITH MERIC LONG ///
WORDS: Marisa Brickman ///

It’s refreshing to hear some progressive and interesting indie rock. Music that is pleasant on the ears.

On surface level, this band seemed a bit too quirky and indie for my liking - their original name was Dodobird (when it was just Meric Long) and now it’s The Dodos (with Morgan Kroeber). Yet another band from the Pacific Northwest (however, these guys are SF). The last record was called Here Come the Maniacs and this one is misspelled, Visiter. However, I trust the taste of our friends at Frenchkiss and Wichita Records, so I knew I needed to give it a chance…

I’ve been buried in dance music and loud, noisy rock these lately, so slipping on the Dodos record was like breath of rock ‘n’ roll fresh air. Lots of harmonies, catchy songs, off-beat instrumentation and some wicked percussion. I wasn’t surprised to find out that Meric studied music at art school Cal Arts in California - only like one of the coolest and most progressive art schools in the USA! These are not just straight up pop tunes, but layered well-orchestrated songs. Something new is revealed upon each listen, with hidden sprinkles of goodness all over the place. Ahhh… Sigh…

Is Northern California is a particularly fertile hotbed for psychadelic music? If so, why?
Northern California has always had an outside association with hippies, weed, psychadelic drugs, etc. I feel like whatever was started here has moved to other areas in the US. Though we do have really good weed here still.

Do you think people even really understand what psychedelic means? Seems to be a very broad term these days to suck people in...
Hmmm... I'm not even sure I know what it means.

What's up with Africa? It’s getting a lot of hype! What do you think that's all about?
It's the motherland, and where the origins of popular music started. Without it we'd be lost.

Tell us about your experience with African drumming.
I studied with a professor at Cal Arts in Valencia, California. West African music just opened up my ears to the space that occurs between rhythms, beats… There's a way in which its various parts manage to stay simple when played by themselves but become mindbogglingly complicated when matched with another part. I try to incorporate this into my playing by keeping parts simple but filling in space that somehow might change the downbeat or at least make it more interesting.

What are your favorite kind of drums?
Taiko drums.

Being from the area you're from - there's a ton of good doom rock and metal - are you into it and who are some of your faves (I personally am super into Earth - and although they are not from Cali, the new Boris record is amazing).
Earth's awesome. I like Harvey Milk too.

Is there a special technique or a trick to making good harmonies?
The Line 6 delay modular! I find it easier to harmonize with myself than other people, and having one of those things is like doubling yourself. It's kind of cheating though.

The Dodos! Where did that name come from?
We used to be called dodobird, but then we started to multiply.

Why did you spell the album title incorrectly? That's like the movie Happyness with Will Smith.
Yes, it's exactly like that. We played for these special ed kids in South Central Los Angeles, and afterwards they did a bunch of drawings for us. One of them became the cover of the record, misspelling and all.

Have you ever been to the UK? Any expectations?
Nope, bangers and mashers

Top 5 Fave things about SF...
Frenet, walking everywhere, Chinese markets, weather and poker.

OMG - We peeped Invasion two years ago and had them play our first UK 'SUP Release Party. They are the only band we can think of that makes music that is psychedelic, heavy metal and soulful all at the same time. The screamy female vocals and wicked guitar noises get us every time.

Invasion have been in the studio with none other than Jas Shaw (one-half Simian Mobile Disco) to produce and record their debut EP, scheduled to be released on the This Is Music label later this summer.

Wizards and galaxies and warlords and all that shit have been getting a lot of hype lately, but these guys were copping those steez way before it was cool. I mean, one of the first times we met Marek at Bestival 2006, he was wearing a wizard outfit - full on pointy hat and cape. And the party he's been doing forever in London at the Old Blue Last is called Skill Wizard.

Anyway - watch this video promo. There's some pretty niiiice intergalactic shit in here...

Day 3 Saturday:

You know what's rough? Covering a festival with 'morning after' deadlines. So goes the speed of the internet, but I had an epiphany on Saturday as I was processing jpegs on my laptop backstage as Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings tore up the floor up... which basically was 'you are BACKSTAGE at Sharon Jones when you should be in FRONT taking photos. DUH.' So I texted a shrugg-y message to my editor, ditched the laptop and made sure I was front and center in the pit for Gogol Bordello.

Remember: Gypsy punks will always have cooler pants than you, and DRUM MACHINES HAVE NO SOUL.

We had to tear ourselves away from Eugene Hutz's klezmer-tastic orgy to check in on Mastodon. Their metal sound is as primal and monstrous as their name implies- and the audience was getting so out of control they were on the fence about letting people into the photopit. After a fistpump or two we were off to Cat Power- aka the clear winner in the 'Best Bangs' category. Her downtempo soul lullabies were a bit too low key for the audience though, and it was sort of sad to see people not really digging her set. Her NYC fans have seen her through thick and then... we love you Chan and will take ya come hell or highwater. And someday, someday, we will talk hair products.

From there on it was off to B.B. King. I'd never seen the man and his 'Lucille' live, so what better way to spend a sunny afternoon than landing a prime spot in the pit for an icon. The mayor of Manchester, Coffee County, was on hand to give him the keys to the city. It was really sweet. The video crew was getting out of control though. No one should have to shoot through a cameraman's crotch. Even worse, a cameraman's crotch on wheels. There was a trolley rigged on the front lip of the stage, and a team of guys would push and pull the dude and his camera in turn. LAME. It's called a ZOOM LENS. At least please humor the people that are eye-level with your asses for the first 3 songs?

We juuuuuust missed the pit cut off for Ben Folds, so we headed back to the truck, where we ran into the adorable de Novo Dahl, dressed for success. We were having just as much luck with our portraits as Danny Clinch was, snapping away in a makeshift studio across from us.

Then the members of Sigur Ros started to come through. Check out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Pop. It's actually non-dairy, cherry in flavor, and has bubble gum eyes. I have yet to sample that one.

It was eventually established that the word of the day at the Ice Cream Truck was Aloha. It started on a hat, carried over to shirts, and then being a good keiki that I am, went about spreading it. It was only natural then that I show up for Jack Johnson. It's funny, I find his music low key and at times uninspiring (um WHY is he headlining every major festival this summer?), but will totally beat someone up if they say anything bad about him. Same goes for Obama. What can I say? It's a small island in the middle of nowhere. We kama'ainas stick together on the mainland.

Even though the powers that be swore UP and Down that the photopit wouldn't be a problem for Pearl Jam as it was for Metallica the night before, they went back on their word and put it the headlining stage on lockdown. Don't even get me started. Just... don't.

Thank you God then for Sigur Ros. One of the best sets of my entire life. Granted a lot of people are saying that (did you know that people still candyflip? WTF!), but I am saying it as witnessed by a 100% sober person. So good I will never be the same. No really, this set will haunt me. Hopelandic forever.

The only thing that can pry me away from a set like that is the promise of another photopit for a band that usually doesn't offer 'em. This is because they frequent terminally sold out sweaty clubs, rife with an escalating ratio of frat boys that just found out about the band via Perez Hilton. Does that make sense? Who cares. Chromeo killed it.

It was off to the truck to recover for a bit, and then head out for the 2:15 AM Kanye set on the main stage. Word on the street was he insisted that all the other sets wrap it up before he went on, which is mental because one of the bands contained Phil Lesh. That's like if I told Mario Batali to leave HIS kitchen because I had the munchies and wanted to make scrambled eggs and could he please remove himself from the premises. So it was pushed back to 2:45 while Ghostland Observatory wrapped up their awesomeness. What I wouldn't give to see the lead signer pistol-whip Kanye with his braids... ANYWAY while this was going on, there was a crew that kept assembling and dismantling the set. There was no giant curtain to hide behind, so tens of thousands of people were privy to the entire production nightmare. Minutes turned to hours with nothing but really lame hip-hop tracks blasting to assuage the crowd. Had I not had a seat in the media bleachers I would have left long before. The whole situation was so ridiculous I was totally in denial of how much time had passed, and gave up texting my friends because a) I felt pathetic for wanting to stay and b) ain't no way we could have found each other in that crowd. I eventually got the chills, and just as the first rays of light crept across the horizon Kanye's 'Glow in the Dark' spectacle unfurled before us. He was out of tune and unsure of himself, which is precarious when the entire production is based around an ego. The dance moves were choppy, and thanks to the magic of Jumbotron I could see flickers of self doubt in his eyes. I stayed for 3.5 songs and headed back to camp. As our questionnaire at the truck revealed the next morning, WEAKER BORING WHACKER DUMBER. Good nite.

Day 2 Friday:

We can't think of a better way to start the day than with a Jose Gonzalez set. Perfection.

Wait, back up. We actually started with Drive By Truckers, but aside from the astounding fact that Spooner Oldham was sitting in with them on keys (holy shit, if you don't know who he is, google him STAT) we aren't uber fans. EXCEPT when it comes to Spooner Oldham. Like, think back to the opening organ chords of 'When a Man Loves a Woman' or 'Mustang Sally' or like, ANY Aretha song- those are his. Here is Matt with Spooner and his lovely wife backstage at the truck.

From Jose we tent-hopped to a positively glowing set by Adele, where she (and us in turn) mourned the fact that we were missing Stephen Marley. That's one thing about festivals- it's a choose your own adventure and you gotta stick to your guns.

She plays guitar too!

From there it was a brisk walk-run to Tegan & Sara, whom we hadn't seen in the flesh since one of them fainted from dehydration during Lolla in 2005. Color us AMAZED. They were fantastic live.

Unfortunately missing !!! and the awesome Shannon Funchess, we got into the pit at the WHAT Stage (capacity 100,000, but who is counting as it is out of doors) for the Raconteurs. Fan-fucking-tastic. When will people stop referring to this as a side project? Probably when they stop asking that very question in every review known to man kind. Apologies.

Moving on to...

The lovely and talented and very much engaged to be married M.I.A. Will this really be her last show as she claimed? You heard it from me: doubtful in the long run. It takes one overdramatic homegirl to know one. Opening with 'Bamboo Banga' - aka our fave ode to Jonathan Richman EVER- she seemed to be having a stellar time with her backup singer/dancer. That term is totes disrespectful, because that woman is SO MUCH more than backup. Does anyone know her name? Can I hire her for like a day so she can like, punctuate everything I say with POWA POWA! Cameron, make it happen. Anyway Ms. Arulpragasam, like every show, did indeed play it like her last, gleefully swopping in 'Where my HIPPIES ATTTTT' for her usual call to Boyz. We left her in good hands- more like 300 of them- as is custom when the fans rushed the stage for 'Bird Flu.'

I worked the ice cream truck while everyone headed out to Chris Rock. Most photogs were locked out of the pit for Metallica w/out warning, which kind of utterly defeats the purpose of shelling out major cash to fly to the middle of nowhere and you know, COVER the festival. But whatever. Amping up the crowd with 'We're METALLICA... and we're here to make you feel GOOD' was totally underwhelming, and just made us all look forward to Mastodon tearing our ears a collective new one the next day.

My camera batteries were recharged just in time for My Morning Jacket's epic 4 hour jam. Can we talk about MMJ for a sec? Because tix for their New Years Eve show at MSG go onsale on Friday. YES, Madison Square Garden. Terminally Long Jams + Massive Following + Playing NYE at MSG totally = The new Phish. Except where Phish were playful and groovy and unmistakeable in their 20 odd years of songwriting, MMJ goes to outer space and back and evolves and unleashes some of the best covers any white boy has dared go. Color me delighted trudging across a muddy field to hear their take on Bobby Womack's 'Across 110th Street' 3 hours into their set. It was pouring rain the whole time.

We took off to catch Tiesto across the way, and boy were were glad, because Jose Gonzalez AND Tegan & Sara, along with Les Claypool, dropped by for some live vox. Insanely amazing, and thanks infinity to Tito for giving me the headsup on the guest appearances. This was one of many moments that you couldn't experience anywhere else.

The Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival is many things. First off, it's in the middle of nowhere on a 700 acre farm in Tennessee. When in operation, the gathering grows to be the 3rd largest city in the state. Needless to say the event- what many consider to be the finest music festival in the US- is a finely oiled piece of machinery. It's kind of mind blowing when you stop to think about it... Every single solitary item is trucked into the site, and although the humming of generators permeates the air around the clock, the fest has been 'green' since its inception in 2002.

So on the one hand, it's a feat of engineering on a large scale. Oh the other hand, things run so smoothly that you don't even think about the details, so you take Bonnaroo (Cajun slang for 'a really good time') at face value- a stoner's delight version of the awesomest pop up book ever. Unlike the other cushy metropolitan festival we frequent every summer, instead of 'Budweiser' or 'AOL Music' main stages, a 'Roo concertgoer is privy to the 'Which' and 'What' stages. These are supplemented by 'This,' 'That,' and 'The Other' stages. So you're pretty much bitchsmacked with a demographic 'Who's on first' situation right off the bat. Imagine that, seen against the backdrop of Uncle Ernie's Holiday Camp. We give up. Laisser le bon temps rouler!

How did I end up here? Well, 'Sup got invited by the good people that run the fest (many many thanks to Ken, Steve, Jim, Chris, Tito and Nicole at BH), and like, as a reflex cuz we *heart* festivals, booked a plane ticket in zero seconds flat. What was there to think about? Bonnaroo 2008 held the promise of a killer lineup, an arcade, a film screening tent, and an air conditioned FUSE barn complete with lasso instruction and pie eating contests. I mean, I can do rustic during the day if there is a bed and lots of pillows at night

*CRICKETS*

Ummmm, yeah, turns out those sorts of accommodations weren't really available. Bonnaroo is best experienced as a camping situation (hotels, which are far offsite, are booked a year in advance), except I hadn't pitched a tent in my life.... yeah. So this is where Matt and Craig from the Ice Cream Man crew offa the west coast came to the rescue. Thanks to their list of supplies, eternal patience with my questions (WTF is a camping pad, and why do people bring surgical masks, please define Superjam, and where do babies come from), tent pitching skills and overall having my back and then some, I'm still standing. It was absolutely worth it. Holla.

Day 1 Thursday:

The festivities were kicked off in proper jammy fashion by MGMT. The last time we saw these boys a clusterfuck of industry types were scrambling to get into their sold out Stubb's show in Austin, so the vibe was a bit frantic as a result. It was interesting to see them embrace the chilled out mood in this setting. Please note the rainbow kid appropriate attire. Hackeysack!

We happily skipped out on Battles to slip into Kemado sweethearts The Sword's set. Hallelujah, in the name of shaggy hair, unironic bell bottom sportin' and O-faces:

What 2008 festival would be complete without a 'Let's All Be Friends Through Our Ivy World Beat' gig by Vampire Weekend? Apparently none. So we chucked the haterade over our slightly sunburnt shoulder and went. As a result, we were privy to their tightest gig yet, with just the right amount of humbled stage banter and a strong rapport with the audience.

and here's another Ezra Koenig mug for good measure:

The lineup at the comedy tent came calling though, so we skipped across the western edge of the site to a straight up proper circus tent. The line was several hundred people long, and many were clutching red slips of paper that they had picked up earlier to guarantee entry to the performance. Uh-oh. Time to see if the trusty artist laminate/ photopass combo worked. We had to do it on the sly, because cock blocking well meaning general admission people out of a laugh-fest is not cool, especially since people were desperate enough to make fake red slips to try and get in. Anyway we got the 'nod' and made our way through the flaps (everyone eventually did get inside). Once there, the setting was pretty stunning. Tiers of wooden benches encircled an air conditioned auditorium. The stage- with a farmlife mural backdrop for the baby grand piano naturally- was complete with a photopit, so my friends waved goodbye and found seats on the floor. Rather than remain in the line of fire though, I plopped down on a bale of hay stage right with my cameras, and proceeded to laugh like I had never laughed before thanks to Reggie Watts. Literally. Janeane Garafalo, sitting behind me, was losing it during his set. No one- regardless of race, gender, or musical preference- was safe.

Zach Galifiniakis championed round 2, and I realized what a great state of comedy we are in now. Before I could wax too poetic on the gifts of Human Giant and College Humor though, an urgent text message summoned us to the Troo Music Lounge.

Now I was still struggling with the whole layout of the fest, but for some reason I went straight to the Troo Music Lounge tent, and squeezing through an exuberant audience (that included members of Battles) I was pretty much swept away by Extra Golden for an infinite number of reasons. As impressed as I was with Vampire Weekend earlier that night, EG dissolved those thoughts upon audio contact because they are the REAL DEAL. As real as Tropical-Psychedelic-Funk out of Nairobi can get. Putamayo, Paul Simon, and the opening credits of any Globe Trekker take note: stop fronting and just give these guys a billion dollars now. Props to Thrill Jockey for signing 'em, and check out their myspace ASAP because they are swinging through the US and Germany all through the summer. Deciding to end the night on the upnote, we recouped at the end of the set and set back to camp. Then I realized I really didn't realize what my tent looked like in the dark... but that's what friends are for. Teamwork.

It's our fave time of year- rooftops in Brooklyn open for business, amps are plugged in via extension cords snaking up fire escapes, and the beats start to flow. What better addition to your arsenal than the new Verve Remix 4? Yes, the very project that introduced a new generation to the wonders of Astrud Gilberto is back with our fave mix yet. How mind blowing is it? Very. Get ready to move- and now you can anytime, anywhere because 'Sup is giving away an exquisite double LP featuring classics reworked by Pilooski, Psapp, and Antibalas- not to mention Diplo's fierce version of Marlena Shaw's 'California Soul.' (CLICK HERE FOR SONG) Just email abbey@supmag.com with your fave summer track to blast at parties, and a winner will be drawn at random (unless the jam has a story which is too good to go untold) and notified by Tuesday, July 1st.

VIDEO ENCLOSED

And if you want the song sans stomping feet, download the mp3 right'chyah ==> CLICKY

I’d been waiting to see Lykke Li for six months since her first single Little Bit dropped with the gently funky Dance Dance Dance as it's B-side. The first time I attempted to watch this ingénue in late 2007, the venue was so crammed with people elbowing, pushing, shoving and clamouring to get their first glance at this girl live, I gave up trying to wriggle my way in and sat at the bar sourly until the people who managed to sardine themselves through the doors spilled out into the bar with knowing, satisfied grins on their faces at seeing this Björn Yttling produced Swede.

The next time I was to attempt to watch her show, I was supposed to interview her as well. But an unexpected trip overseas caused me to skip that opportunity and pass it onto another writer. So when I heard she was playing Cargo, I was determined to go. It was a steely kind of determination: the kind that you can guard your shoulders and elbows up with if necessary, the kind that will get you to the front of the stage – especially if you’re of average height and always end up somehow not quite seeing any of the action because of some wildly gyrating, excessively tall individual in front of you.

Trying to think of some other solo young left field style pop ingénues on the market place as it were, I was hard pressed trying to think of someone who I could compare to Lykke Li. The thing is, she's a tease. And charming, with a kittenish gravity to her face that makes every man in the room want to look after her and every girl curse her natural effusiveness. Sporting a black silk jumpsuit and a plethora of big bling around her neck including a peace sign, an atomic bomb and a kazoo, she’s effortlessly chic as well.

Another thing is, Lykke Li is accessible. After a wait that was just short enough to receive a cheer when it finally began but long enough to get people impatient, she opened with Let It Fall, a sweetly frank song celebrating crying, and quickly followed it with the gently picky guitar of My Love. She then asked, “Who’s the most heartbroken person in the room? Your love will come.” Talk about pulling on heart strings - Lykke Li gently tugs on them via your ears, making you unconsciously lean in closer. I was pleasantly surprised to hear her voice translate into a live setting, as in some cases on the album, I found it a little thin; but even that teeny tiny semi-criticism was abolished. Her voice was much stronger than I thought it was going to be, full of soul and depth, she crooned any doubts away.

To lighten the mood, Lykke then pulled out the aforementioned B-side to her debut single, Dance Dance Dance. And yes we did, and so did she. Lykke's not overtly sexy; but this 22 year old has massive sex appeal. Maybe it's the way she moves on stage, or because she kinda comes across as the kind of girl who’d give a boy a chance if he happened to meet her on the street. Every single lyric and gesture rang true; even when she fondled the crash cymbal, tapped it with her ring during the bittersweetly ironic Little Bit. Lykke Li is a woman child, but far from the Britney version (though I love to love a bit of Britney). Breaking It Up was next, and she pulled out the megaphone which was another one of the elements that - in many other hands would have been totally transparent and gimmicky - came across as genuine and necessary...even down to the kazoo on a string around her neck. Nothing was surplus or extraneous. It was the perfect set list and furthermore, perfectly paced. Tonight was the first encore, plaintive and sweet. On the album, Tonight was one of the tracks that I found to be a whiny turn off of a song. But live, it was nothing short of lovely.

“Sometimes, we give something special to the audience if they deserve it.” Some guy yelled from the pit, “Give it to me!” So for the closer, she and her band launched into a version of Can I Kick It, and of course everybody responded with “YES YOU CAN!”

Lykke's got rhythm, beat, AND can rap. She’s good - and I’m gone. Holler.

www.lykkeli.com/

Come to the Agnès B store in Soho on Thursday and celebrate our new issue and the launch of their summer sale. We're going to have complimentary cocktails and special DJ sets from White Williams and Apache Beat, so make sure to bring your dancing shoes. The event is from 6-8PM at 103 Greene St, NYC. The summer of 'Sup is underway...

Afterwards, follow us to Hanger Bar (213 E. 3rd Street b@ Ave B) for the official after party, with the resident Hanger Bar Thursday DJs and Girl U No It's Tru (a.k.a. G.U.N.I.T.) from Londontown.

See you Thursday!