SvenSson

"(...) While a passing acquaintance with the French language can only aid empathy with his urgent, close-miked murmur, the darkly overcast weather of his second album needs no translation. There are shades of Joy Division's restrained panic in the rhythmic electric rumble of Partout, O and Vienne, and the indie bookshop gloom of the '80s raincoat movement permeates the acoustic tracks like Lloyd Cole's aftershave. The ominous interplay of cello and violin is a recurring delight, especially on the panoramic title track and the mysterious Japanese travelogue, Roppongi. Whatever F--ing Shit is about, it's hard not to join in the chorus." - Michael Dwyer, THE AGE (Melbourne/Australia)

"Francophiles take note. This French fellow with a Scandinavian name leaves no stone unturned in the pursuit of lyrical excellence. Why else entitle a song Fucking Shit? In said song, these are the only two English words he sings. It’s a brilliant move, Svensson aims for that elusive place just south of heaven, but just north of the gutter. Somehow he manages to occupy that space and seems content doing so.
It’s hard to beat such a beginning, but what does the loon do? He gets the musical blender and mixes Nick Cave's Henry Lee with Gainsbourg's Initials B. B. And, without a hint of irony, names the song Initials P. J. Such a recipe is so bleeding obvious that you begin to think that he is becoming a little too clever for his own good. But in a completely daft and endearing way.
He rights everything by singing lovely French lyrics; so much so that he comes across all angelic. A good clean fellow with clever punchlines. Then you receive a forearm jolt when you realize the songs are Dick Street and Barely Legal. But the sturdy arrangements and songwriting pull these songs along nicely. Svensson is helped by a strong desire to tell his own stories, his way. It’s like music to listen to after a trauma, but the sense of conviction elevates Svensson from the realms of a pretend tramp.
L'Ardeur floats past in the blink of an eye like some sophisticated disco folly, before he returns with some extra sleazy form on Dalton Ames. "Fucked up" he sighs as the weight bears down on him, saving a potential ragbag by the strength of what is on offer. His warm, dreamy voice delivers some civilised classics. Albeit with a bleak disposition enough to will you recognise that there is a heaven, because the earth is shit. Sung with Gallic indifference it is entrancing, suggesting a little more happiness than the land of loss normally allows.
A grubby intelligence pervades songs such as Brumes and Traverse Moi, which reward closer listening. Stripped of sonic wizardry, as it is, the languid vocal alone proves hypnotising."
(Bromius Zemeris, BEAT, 04/2009)

12/2007 :
"In virtually every other facet of life the French are light years ahead of us, with their sophistication, their panache, their je ne sais quois, save in one arena, that of rock music, where our Gallic cousins have traditionally been irredeemably gauche. Think Johnny Halliday. Think Vanessa Paradis. Think Air (OK, they are actually quite cool). But Svensson torpedoes any lazy escargot stereotypes with his second album Perdition, a coruscating set of roustabout bar-room chansons, introspective ballads and moody French noir. While there are definite echoes of The Cure and Edwyn Collins, Svensson is clearly a diligent student of the best of Anglo indie music over the past two decades. He serves up an essentially unclassifiable sound all his own. Svensson's certainly a cool dude, with a dark brooding LP cover featuring Perdition transliterated into Russian, Greek and Arabic. And who could resist his husky Gauloise-tinged voice, which conjures up atmospheric Parisian boulevards and mist snaking around Montmartre lampposts, or Brassai's noir photographs of lamplighters, lowlifes and flaneurs in the 30s. Ô is a simply perfect piece of French pop, a rollickingly intense Gainsbourg-esque epic, while the moody Echolalie perfectly captures a summer epiphany on the Pont-Neuf. On Roppongi, Svensson evokes a cool Tokyo expat district with a neurotic cello, perfectly encapsulating urban paranoia and dislocation. The closing Décomposition is an eight-minute triumph, building via a jagged drumbeat to a plaintive crescendo via some delightfully glissando piano arpeggios and sinewy cello (...)"
(Alexander Maxwell, BEAT, 12/2007) - Bromius Zemeris & Alexander Maxwell, BEAT (Melbourne/Australia)

"Du sang de poète dans les veines de SvenSson ? Il est vrai que son nouvel opus Perdition est de ceux qui soulèvent les sens et frappent l'imagination. Tout d'abord la pochette, noire, avec sa gueule pleine poire, et ses yeux fiévreux, comme un revenant, un drogué. Plane l'ombre de Bashung (...) Puis ce titre, "Perdition", planté comme un drapeau pirate, barbarisme pour dire la perte de l'innocence, des illusions, de l'être aimé. Les lieux de perdition où l'on peut s'oublier en glissant vers les bas-fonds. Mais aussi la lutte d'un navire paumé en haute-mer, ballotté par des vagues trop hautes pour lui, mais qui s'énerve et arme ses canons (...) Palpitant d’une superbe matière. Enivrant de chairs. Trépidant de parfums forcenés (…)" - Sylvain Fesson (ROCK MAG, France)

"SvenSson se démarque par la force de son écriture et de ses textes touffus, par son personnage enfiévré, sa voix habitée, et sa pop sans concession qui récuse toute facilité (...)" - H.M. (Rock&Folk, France)

"Un univers violent, tourmenté, et totalement axé sur l'amour physique et la beauté d'un corps féminin (...) Au final, un bon disque".
(Avr. 2009 - X-Roads / France)
- Thierry Supervielle, X-ROAD (France)

"Une pop littéraire et ombrageuse (...) Chanson française éduquée dans les colleges anglais les plus select (...) Un joli petit grain de sable dans les rouages rutilants de la nouvelle chanson française NF (...)" - Jean-Daniel Beauvallet (LES INROCKS, France)

"Avec son timbre sur le fil, grave et sensuel, le Toulousain tisse des ambiances noires et toxiques. Très influencé par la new-wave anglaise, il évoque The Cure, Joy Division, mais parfois aussi Nick Cave pour le côté storyteller (...)"
(I.D., 05/2009)

"Un soupçon de maniérisme dandy et une sensualité à fleur de peau (...) Un prince noir du rock français (...) L'art de faire sonner des textes français sur des mélodies pop et des arrangements entre post-rock et new-wave. Une réussite."
(I.D., 05/2009) - I.D. (START'UP, France)

"A pesar de su nombre, este nuevo cantautor no llega de Suecia, sino del sur de Francia. Con este disco debut, hace revivir a la canción francesa las horas de gloria del rock-pop inglés de los primeros años 1980. Svensson se muestra también como el heredero en línea directa de la new-wave bretona de la misma época (Marquis de Sade, Etienne Daho, etc.). Como sus fuentes de inspiración, cada tema tiene una melodía muy fuerte y muy eficaz, que se apoya sobre orquestación de guitarras, de sintetizadores y efectos que huelen el perfume de los 80." - X (CANCION FRANCESA, Argentina)

"Initials PJ is entertaining : this cover version/mash-up of Nick Cave’s Henry Lee and Serge Gainsbourg’s Initials BB is clever, well-crafted and cool.
The echoes of many hours listening to The Cure, Joy Division, Lloyd Cole and Leonard Cohen are all over this album.
Gloomy pop? Alternative chamber music? Yep, tick those boxes." - Jarrad Bevan, MERCURY (Hobart/Australia)

"This french pop alchemist reconciles the space between Serge Gainsbourg, The Cure, Nick Cave, Joy Division and Lloyd Cole. His 2007 album Perdition was praised in his French home and on our shores and he’s following it up with Cyprine, which contains the curious singalong Fucking Shit and the mash up Initials P.J. - an eclectic mix of Serge Gainsbourg’s Initials B.B. tribute to Brigitte Bardot and Nick Cave and PJ Harvey’s Henry Lee ballad. Intrigué?"
X, RIP IT UP (12/03/2009) - X, RIP IT UP (Adelaide/Australia) :