First Aid Kit at Shepherd's Bush Empire

First Aid Kit
Idiot Wind
Shepherd's Bush Empire, 20 November 2012

With their second album, The Lion's Roar, First Aid Kit have made, for me at least, maybe the album of the year. Full of swirling harmonies and with deep roots in the very best of Americana music, it's hard to believe that something so authentic sounding was created by two Swedish siblings, one still in her teens. Yet the Soderberg sisters, Klara and Johanna, have done just that and maybe they know how unlikely it sounds because they actually introduce themselves tonight by telling us "Hello, we're First Aid Kit. We're two Swedish sisters from Stockholm".

Not only to they sound like they come from another place and time, they also look like it too: wearing floor-length, flowing diaphanous dresses with paisley designs and their long, straight locks, they look like Joni Mitchell devotees circa 1969, like they should be carrying their guitars through Laurel Canyon at the height of the hippie era to play folk songs at some local musicians shindig. Their name, displayed prominently behind them in huge art nouveau lettering, adds to this mystique, occasionally showing images of forests and wolves and Joshua trees in the desert. It's actually way more fun and often pretty mesmerising to watch the sisters though, as they swish their chiffon gowns to the music, Johanna behind her keyboards and Klara holding her guitar, and sometimes thrash their long hair through the air to amazing effect, enough to make any headbanger proud.

But while they are definitely dazzling to watch, like some groovy psychedelic hippie dream, really it's their heavenly harmonies we're here for and on that they certainly more than deliver because in the flesh they are even more spine-tingling than I ever imagined. It's hard to explain that magic, that perfect sound that comes with two voices that are meant to sing together and it's probably emphasised when it's two sisters and they have that same tone. Nowhere is it more evident than when mid-way through the set they announce "We'd like to abandon modern technology for a second" and walk away from the microphones, Klara holding an unplugged acoustic guitar, and play an astonishing version of Ghost Town from their first album, with their voices echoing all through the Empire to a beautifully, haunting effect. It pretty much brings down the house and deservedly so because it's an amazing moment and showcases just how unique and strong their voices really are.

Although they were particularly memorable alone and acoustic, they also sound fantastic with their band too. Along with the girls, the band only consists of a drummer (Niclas Lindstrom) and a brilliant pedal-steel guitarist called BJ Cole, yet the foursome often sounded like a much bigger group, particularly on the title track of The Lion's Roar, which ended with them rocking out, hair flying and Klara's guitar clashing away. It sounded fantastic and completely the opposite of their soft folksy image and makes a nice contrast to the quieter moments of the night.

As expected the set is pretty much divided between their first two albums but there are few nice surprises too: a beautiful cover of Fever Ray's When I Grow Up, turning the edgy electronic track into a timeless sounding folk tale and a faithful rendition of Simon & Garfunkel's America, which is proceeded with an anecdote about the sisters performing the song for it's author, Paul Simon, and just how nervous they felt (the nerves obviously long gone now). But it's two B-sides (which have since made their way onto the special edition of the album), I'm most excited to hear: the lovely, moving Marianne's Son and the spooky, howling vocals of Wolf (bizarre it was left off the album initially because it's always been my favourite track). And I can't not mention their ode to the great male/female country duos, Emmylou, which may be corny as Kansas in August (but then so many of the great country songs are), but still sends chills up my spine. 

The show ended on King Of The World, with support act Idiot Wind (a fellow Swede, who sounds like First Aid Kit cut in half and reared on more Bob Dylan - her cover of Springsteen's I'm On Fire was particularly superb) coming on to sing Conor Oberst's parts (it actually sounded better this way too I think). It was a more than spirited way to end the show and definitely a wonderful way to warm hearts on a cold, November day in London.