Ronny Carlsson was a well-kept secret to most but hailed as a hero and a legend by many having heard his music. He first made his mark with the band Rockamöllan in the late 70s, and after their demise, he started Onna Taas Band before launching a long solo career. He was in possession of one of the gruffest voices ever heard on a Swedish album, strangely warbly and grainy like a gravel road. Singing in his native Southern dialect (similar to Peps Persson's) only added to the air of world-weariness. He sounded as if he had seen it all, been burnt by it all and finally rejected it all. In his own words from the track ”I ett rum någonstans på stan”, translated here for international understanding: ”It's not hard to break a lonely man”. His voice was of the kind that comes back to haunt you when you switch off the light at night.
Needless to say, a voice like that will dominate any album it appears on. If you take the music on Onna Taas Band's debut album, it's not that dark. There are hints at reggae, cajun music, pretty straigh-ahead rock, John Holm influenced balladry, blues, even faint dashes of post punk (it was, after all, 1980)... But once Carlsson's voice enters the mix, the mood changes in an instant and everything becomes something else, something more, and something decidedly darker. There's so much pain at work here it's impossible to turn away from it. At its best, this is every bit as gripping as John Holm's depictions of a reality cracking slowly but irreversibly. And the thing is, even if you don't understand Carlsson's poetic words, you still sense their exact meaning. Ronny Carlsson didn't just sing, he WAS his lyrics, they're inseperable and it's impossible to not understand.
Despite the stylistic diversity, nothing here seems out of place. Even the highly Ronny Åström inspired ”Säporerad cirkus” slips in nicely between the mild Dylan funk of ”Ord som blev över” and the brooding folk of ”Den välkände soldaten”. On any other album, ”Säporerad cirkus” would be the track to skip, but not here. It has its place.
This is just a deeply human album. Like humans it might scare you with what it has to say or it might comfort you with its honesty and intimacy. (Like Swedish music journalist Bengt Eriksson said about Carlsson: he sang between pain and comfort.) But most of all, it's just a brilliant album.
Carlsson made several more albums under
his own name up until 2013, the last one consisting of recordings
made in the years before its release. One more was in the making, but
he died in 2014 before it was finished, at the age of 62 and marked
by a hard life. A life that came through unfiltered in his voice.
I ett rum någonstans på stan
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