Anna Erhard

On Friday night, a sold out Oslo in Hackney was treated to a selection of unique vignettes from the mind of Anna Erhard, mostly taken from her new 3rd album Botanical Garden. Opener Not Rick introduces us to her world, a lyrically sprawling stream of consciousness about a tarot reading and not being as universal and quotable as Rick Rubin.

In fact, there are endlessly quotable lines throughout the set. Dryly comic lyrics are common in a lot of the alternative indie scene that Erhard’s music is adjacent to, but very rarely does it illicit full-room laughter in the way she manages to.

It’s an impressively varied run through of musical styles. Rhythms, guitar and synth tones never settle from song to song, which serves as an excellent counterpoint to the deadpan wit and delivery. From bouncy indie-pop of set-highlight Botanical Garden to the itchy and twitchy rock of Spa.

Every budding musician has at some point thought they had a great idea before someone else pulled it off better. I doubt anyone had ever had the idea to write a song about how, actually, they are slightly taller than you and you should stop lying (170, played from the shoulders of an audience member to hammer home the point).

The encore brings a particularly light and breezy version of Stash, with Erhard in full raconteur mode, on how she found 250 in cash on the floor. The idea that specificity is the gateway to universality is, in my opinion, a finer way to go than the generalist short sentences of Rick Rubin.