Saturday night in Miami was so stiflingly hot it could depress anyone with an internal calendar. It was only May 24, meaning we have four more months of nonstop sweat and mosquitos. But it you’re patient, once every so often we’re rewarded with a breeze. Last night’s Peter Bjorn and John concert at Zey Zey was just such a gust of cool that Miami desperately needed.
The Swedish trio were on tour to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of their recording the album Writer’s Block. I wondered how those Northern Europeans would handle our steam bath environment, but the dudes came out clad in jackets, they didn’t take off until deep into the encore. It was a reminder of how popular saunas are in Scandinavia.
Sweden is also known for cracking out pop-tacular hits. Abba, Ace of Bass, and Roxette all topped American pop charts. I’ve read a theory it’s because Swedes all know English well enough to write a song in our language, but not so well to make it too complicated. They keep it easy. Lyrics that anyone can sing along to.
Peter Bjorn and John definitely fit that formula.
“I’m all about you/ you’re all about me/ we’re all about each other” or “Baby went to Amsterdam/Four, five days for the big canal/Now it’s so slow, so slow” stick into your head and back out of your mouth so easily. That’s not even getting into their most famous song “Young Folks”, you just have to know how to whistle.
I always thought of them as pop music. But Saturday night Peter Bjorn and John were revealed to be a garage rock band. Or maybe New Wave guitar heroes. Regardless of how you want to classify them, they were relentless as they took the sweating audience on a trip down memory lane. But instead of performing Writer’s Block from front to back they played it from back to front. The last song on the album first, working their way to the top.
It makes sense. A band frontloads an album with the hits so a listener sticks with it. During a concert a band has to keep the biggest songs in their pocket, so the crowd waits for it. They kept the structures of the songs faithful, but they occasionally played with the forms. They stretched out “Up Against the Wall” long enough, so that singer Peter Morén could jump off the stage and sing amongst the crowd while a roadie held the microphone cord.
By the time they got to the album opener, “Objects of my Affection” they provided an hour of nostalgia. Everyone already felt they got their money’s worth, but the band asked “Do we have time to play a few more songs?”
A few, became a second hour of shredding and screaming and dancing. By the time it was all over close to midnight, the temperature and humidity were forgotten, if for one night.
