The Great Lake Swimmers

4 / 5 stars 4 out of 5 stars.
Lumiere, London

There are some gigs where, to fully experience the magic, you need to be down the front, so packed in you end up vertically spooning with strangers. For others, you need a comfy seat and an unobstructed view of the stage. But for the Great Lake Swimmers' blissful live experience, you really need to be lying down. It is the sort of cloud-watching, universe-pondering music that sounds best under the duvet or in the bath, though happily the Lumiere floor works, too.

That's not to say that the Great Lake Swimmers - Canadian singer/songwriter Tony Dekker, plus three-piece touring band - specialise in bland wallpaper music. It is more that the delicate folky melodies are so touching and the alt-country beats so soothing that you want to give over every bit of you to taking them in. They have a great knack of building songs up slowly - first with the guitar, then the banjo, then the double bass and finally drums - to create a complex screen of sound.

The knockout track is Your Rocky Spine, from the recent album Ongiara, which melds Neil Young with Sufjan Stevens above a Dixieland trot. Not since Shakira declared her breasts "small and humble, so you don't confuse them with mountains" has anyone had a go at equating fells with a lady's physique, but Dekker's use of the Canadian Rockies as a metaphor for a girl he fancies is a cringe-free triumph. Backstage With the Modern Dancers is slower and slinkier, but retains the slightly jagged edge that gives the Great Lake Swimmers their vulnerable charm. Some of the solo tracks are less successful, and occasionally Dekker's between-song chat is the wrong side of fey, but all in all: a joy.