Loney Dear contemplates love, religion, and happiness

By Helen Matatov
Published: January 27th, 2009 | 4:00am

Sitting with his arms crossed and his bright eyes drifting upwards, singer-songwriter Emil Svanängen of Loney Dear is deep in thought. He’ll soon be leaving the small room he’s lounging in backstage at Brooklyn’s venue, The Bell House, to perform. But for now, what’s on the 29-year-old’s mind are the questions man sometimes finds himself asking, and ones Svanängen enjoys mulling over. “The same way you could have a belief in a God, and you struggle with, ‘is he for real and can I rely on it?’ I struggle a lot with music because it has sometimes become my spiritual home,” he blurts out softly in his Swedish accent. And without skipping a heartbeat, he continues, “Can I trust that music is infinite, which means I can put something into it and get something beautiful out of it too that can really comfort me and carry me?”

When it comes to discussing his internal conflicts, Svanängen (going under the moniker Loney Dear) is far from shy. In fact, he’ll lace his indie-folk tunes with a rainbow of emotions, but one theme is more prevalent than the rest. “I long for love,” he admits. “I try to describe and cope with it and I think people hear that in my songs.” Svanängen’s trouble with romance extends to something he considers far larger than himself. “The modern person is destroyed by this thought of what love is. There’s a big focus on the beginning and people know how to deal with that but they don’t know how to sustain it. I thought that music about love was a cliché but it’s not because it’s everything.”

It’s just that candid passion that has struck a chord with listeners. Only several years ago, Svanängen was writing, producing, and recording albums in his parents’ basement or his home studio in Stockholm, and then self-releasing the CD-Rs. His intimate records, which often feature his intense vocals paired with the sounds of a mini-orchestra, created a powerful word-of-mouth that allowed Svanängen to pay the rent — a lifestyle he likens to “a crafts person selling little wooden things.” The industry took notice too, and Sub Pop reissued the LP, Loney, Noir in 2007.

These days, the multi-instrumentalist still does just about everything on his own, becoming a one-person band. And his latest release, Dear John (Polyvinyl), may become the most treasured work by Loney Dear yet. Packed with electro-pop melodies and a soulful urgency, Dear John gave Svanängen the canvas to lyrically create a dream-like state. (Some of his sources for inspiration are nautical themes, like the idea of swimming beside large ships). And the band’s MySpace page even refers to it as the “final piece of a five-album puzzle” (but certainly not the end of Loney Dear). But no matter what the former pro-cyclist tackles, he keeps his audience close to heart. “I write for myself but I try to angle it to suit people,” he explains. “I try to find the good formula for reaching people because that’s what I want to do. I want to make friends with music.”

But the friendships his work has helped cultivate, especially on the road, leave Svanängen feeling vulnerable. “I meet too many people, and I invest feelings in too many places, and too many persons, and friends. And I think it’s going to tear me apart eventually,” he says with concern, but then quickly adds, “maybe in a good way.” And though Svanängen cherishes the moments he catches a thrilled face in the crowd taking in one of his concerts, he also worries that the euphoria of it all can be as potent as a drug.

While he can at times appear like a troubled soul, it’s actually the positive experiences in Svanängen’s life that pave the way for his creativity, and not the other way around. “When I feel content, happy, and good about myself, that’s the best time to make music,” he reveals.

After questioning art, love, and the human condition, Svanängen is ready to prepare for his set. But he takes a quick moment to reconsider some of his fears. “Maybe I’m over exaggerating, because it’s before the show now and I’m a bit worried about how it’s going to turn out,” he says. But though Svanängen can be puzzled by a multitude of unanswerable questions, when it comes down to it, he values the nature of conflict. “You need the struggle to have something to tell.”

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For more information on Loney Dear check out his MySpace