99Xpress interview of Magnus March 1997

The smoke from his cigarette curls up around his head as he contemplates his answer to the question. "I'd really like to see an Abba reunion," says Magnus Sveningsson, bassist for the Swedish alternative/pop band The Cardigans.

The question is: If you had the opportunity to perform as and organize an all-day music festival, which bands would you choose to play with? Drummer Bengt Lagerberg remains silent while clutching a video camera. "Papa Fritas," he says quietly, referring to the band's current opening act.

"Maybe we could bring The King back," Sveningsson replies, while pointing at a large, carpet wall hanging of Elvis Presley adorning one of the walls in the office of Atlanta's Variety Playhouse. He stares at the carpet. "Do you know where I can find one of those?" he asks.

The Cardigans may not have the kind of pull required to resurrect Elvis, but they've come a long way since their humble beginnings in Jonkoping, Sweden. The band formed in the fall of 1992, and the current lineup includes Sveningsson, Lagerberg, guitarist Peter Svensson, guitarist/keyboardist Lasse Johansson, and vocalist Nina Persson.

"When we started the band we didn't sound at all like we do now," says Lagerberg. "We sounded very '8os like The Smiths and those type of bands. And it wasn't until we met our producer that he kind of pointed out what was special about us."

This producer is Doc-Tore Johansson, who was at the helm for the band's third album First Band On The Moon. Johansson's production work with another Swedish group, Eggstone first attracted the attention of The Cardigans. Eggstone's album In San Diego was one of the band's favorites at the time, so it seemed natural for The Cardigans to team up with him.

"I still think [Eggstone's In San Diego] is one of the best pop albums made in Sweden," says Sveningsson. "Since we loved the '60s sound of their album, we were really pleased to come down to Tambourine Studios and work with Tore."

Johannson's intervention helped filter in The Cardigan's obvious influence of '60s pop. The result on First Band On The Moon comes across as something like Debbie Harry meets "That Girl." And the public is eating it up.

The Cardigans have been performing sold-out crowds in venues around the world, including their Feb. 11 performance at the Variety Playhouse. The evening began with their semi-loungey version of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man." Persson slowly pranced on stage as the band sprinkled their unique flavor upon the hard rock classic.

If their choice to cover Ozzy and Co. comes as a shock, Sveningsson and Lagerberg's favorite artists are equally as diverse. They cite Metallica and Pantera as occupying space in their record collections. "We're pretty musically incorrect," Sveningsson confesses. "We have such a wide range of musical tastes. I guess people would imagine us listening to Burt Bachrach albums all the time."

Yes, The Cardigans' music seems to have more in common with the hip stylings of Bachrach than it does with the sounds of Metallica. Lagerberg says this may account for the band's success. "I don't know the American market that well," he says. "But we've been told that the grunge scene has been so big here for a couple of years that people think our music is fresh. Pop music is coming back."

Lagerberg may be right. The band says the live U.S. audiences have been readily embracing their brand of alterna/pop at each show. "The crowd in Providence, Rhode Island was fabulous," Lagerberg recalls. "People in the smaller cities tend to appreciate bands more. In New York, they're so spoiled with music that they don't really freak out. We did two shows at Tramps and they were both sold out. So people really liked it. But in Providence the people were really [screaming] all the time."

After the interview, Lagerberg scurries off with his video camera. Sveningsson stands in front of the stage. He looks on intently as the light technician plays with the venue's equipment. Persson walks in from the streets of Little Five Points and stops to joke with him. Gone are the tight-fitting clothes and the makeup. Instead Persson is wrapped in a large, brown coat in order to shield her from the chilly Atlanta afternoon. Persson then walks away as quickly as she came in. Sveningsson's attention returns to the stage.

The band's manager tells Sveningsson that the soundcheck will begin in 15 minutes. This gives him just enough time to run over to Junkman's Daughter and look for an Elvis carpet. Before he leaves, he stops and shakes his head. "None of us are really religious," he says. "But I believe a man in a long beard or something must be looking after us. We're really lucky."