Sondre Lerche and Ed Harcourt
Ed Harcourt and Sondre Lerche stopped in Atlanta Monday night to wrap up their U.S. tour. Norwegian-born Lerche had already opened the night when I arrived. According to the doorman I only missed two songs so I quickly grabbed one of the remaining spots on the bar steps.
When I saw that Lerche was alone on stage I was disappointed. Faces Down, Lerche’s debut, made a huge impression on me with its dense, unique instrumentation; I assumed his songs would lose at least some of their effect when he played them alone. Nothing, it turned out, could be further from the truth. As I sat on the steps of the bar, his immense talent as a young songwriter and performer hit me hard.
During “Dead Passengers,” the catchy opener from Faces Down, I started to feel like I was watching the beginning of something wonderful. Though his age bleeds through now and then, his performance foreshadowed greatness to come.
The comfortable and confident Lerche engaged the crowd with his charming wit and lack of cynicism, asking us to sing along here and there. He was funny, but not sarcastic, condescending only to himself when he said “I’m going to play my stupid guitar.” He wasn’t self-deprecating but he seemed to understand the virtue in minimal banter between songs. He had a tendency to slap his own wrist when he felt like he had talked too long.
He flipped his disheveled hair through a Strokes-inspired version of “Sleep On Needles” as though begging for a barber and a pair of scissors. After the song, the loudest and fastest of the night, Lerche apologized; He claimed his evil twin brother Eddie Lerche had actually snuck out to play that one. “He is such a bastard,” Lerche said. Then he invited Harcourt to sit behind the piano and duet with him.