Like a Swedish Stephen Merritt, Lekman is a highly intelligent pop craftsman who always manages to stay on just the right side of smart-arsiness.
This, probably his best song, captures that moment we’ve all been in: feeling lonely and sorry for yourself after getting drunk at a party and going home but not wanting to go home. Because it’s Saturday night and if something magical isn’t going to happen now, when will it happen? Maybe now, in this cab, with its psycho killer driver who can take us anywhere.
Or, you know, maybe the black cab is death or something. I don’t know.
The song is musically very pretty but also quite dense and a bit suffocating. It kind of rolls and lurches but twinkles with life. Like an aural drunken fug.