Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
Så kan det gå
Mars 1995: Göteborgsbandet Honey Is Cool var på Kalmar nation i Uppsala för en konsert som jag bokat. Före spelningen intervjuade jag dem för mitt fanzine Fozzie, och jag vill minnas att det inte var en helt lätt intervju; sångerskan Karin var en ganska speciell person som egentligen inte ville prata så mycket, gitarristen John var inte heller direkt pratsam, utan satt mest och plirade fram under sin mörka page, trummisen Håkan verkade rätt hyperaktiv och den ende som faktiskt ville prata om deras musik var basisten Staffan.
Spelningen däremot, var fantastisk. Karin var en stor idol för mig, för att hon var så otroligt cool och egensinnig och musiken var underbar.
Efter spelningen var jag DJ, vilket alltid brukade vara jätteroligt, men just den här kvällen var det några störiga typer på stället som var väldigt irriterande, så när det var dags att stänga var jag less och ville bara gå hem. Men min korridorskompis Jessica ville att jag skulle vänta på henne så att vi kunde ha sällskap hem, och anledningen till att jag behövde vänta var för att hon satt och pratade med Håkan, trummisen, och de var inte redo att avsluta kvällen redan.
Till slut var det i alla fall dags att gå, och då bestämde Håkan och Jessica att vi skulle ha efterfest i vår korridor, så vi drog hem till oss.
De andra slog sig ner i köket, men jag - fortfarande på lite dåligt humör - gick in på mitt rum för att lämna av mina skivor, och såg att jag hade två meddelanden på min telefonsvarare. Båda var från en tjej, som utan att presentera sig sa med tillgjord röst att jag var en groupie och att hon var förvånad över att jag fick vara ute och kn***a trots att jag, som hon tyckte, hade dålig hy!! Det var oerhört bisarra meddelanden, och ännu till denna dag har jag ingen aning om vem tjejen var och varför hon ringde, men en teori var väl att hon såg att jag gick från nationen med några från bandet och blev avundsjuk. I vilket fall som helst var det fruktansvärt orättvist eftersom jag aldrig någonsin - vare sig före eller efter hennes meddelanden - legat med en musiker just för att han spelar i ett band, vilket ju är det som konstituerar en groupie.
Oh well, det som det här blogginlägget egentligen skulle komma fram till var nästa morgon: när jag kom ut i köket satt Håkan där och sjöng för sig själv. Han sjöng Eggstone-låten "Desdemona" och jag tyckte han sjöng fruktansvärt illa (plus att han inte riktigt kunde texten) och önskade bara att han skulle sluta slakta mitt favoritbands låt, men så säger man ju inte till någon man knappt känner.
Lite drygt fem år senare släpper en hyperaktiv tanig göteborgskille sin debutsingel "Känn ingen sorg för mig Göteborg" och börjar snart älskas av större delen av Sveriges befolkning, trots sin något svajiga sångröst. Killen heter Håkan Hellström, och spelade några år tidigare trummor i Honey Is Cool och satt i mitt korridorskök en morgon och sjöng Eggstone. Så kan det gå.
(Sångerskan Karin hette Dreijer i efternamn och startade senare duon The Knife tillsammans med sin bror Olof, John heter Jern och spelade tills nyligen bas med Kristofer Åström i Hidden Truck och läser numera till lärare. Staffan vet jag faktiskt inte var han blev av.)
Tack Anders Zaine för Honey Is Cool-länken!
söndag 30 september 2012
lördag 29 september 2012
Bortglömda texter 6: 20/4-2007
Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
Japan, fantastic Japan
I've just been on vacation in Tokyo, Japan for two weeks. It was my second time there; my first time was one year ago, April 2006. I had dreamt of Japan since 1994, when I started loving and getting to know lots of Swedish indie bands that became popular in Japan during the 90's.
I specifically remember a New Year's Day after celebrating New Year's Eve in Linköping with Jennie Medin, singer in Cloudberry Jam, when Cloudberry Jam got up early after the party to leave for a tour of Japan, leaving me and Jennie's then boyfriend Emil to clean up the apartment in an extremely jealous hang-over. We tried to cheer up by listening non-stop to McAlmont & Butler's great single "Yes" and watching "Ivanhoe" on tv (that's always on on New Year's Day in Sweden), but we both dreamed of going with them to Japan; where the people loved the same great Swedish bands that we did, where they pick up on trends and make them their own faster than anywhere else, where everybody and everything is soooo much cooler than in Sweden...
Last year I realised that I could actually afford going to Tokyo, so I and my boyfriend booked a trip and went, and it was the absolute coolest thing I've ever done. So why not go again? No reason at all, so we went to the land of cherry-blossoms one more time.
During the 90's there were, like I mentioned, lots of Swedish indie bands that were popular in Japan - most of them might not have sold loads of albums, but to sell a few thousand albums in Japan was a lot more than many of them could ever hope of selling in Sweden with a population of then just 8 million people. This did though create both jealousy and the untrue rumour that the Japanese were kind of stupid and bought whatever crap as long as it came from Sweden. I remember the Brainpool singer Janne Kask saying some utterly brainless comment in a magazine: "The Japanese would buy any music if you put a blond girl with a herring in her hand on the cover" - only because Brainpool failed to hit in Japan. I think that was proof enough that the Japanese did not fall for everything Swedish, but actually chose carefully what music was good enough and what wasn't.
This Swedish wave sent Swedish bands to Japan, but also the other way around: Japanese artists came to Sweden, particularly Malmö, to record their albums. Why Malmö? Because of Eggstone, who were popular in Japan, and who have their own studio Tambourine Studios in Malmö, where The Cardigans (even more popular in Japan) recorded their albums (hence the Eggstone epithet Godfathers of Swedish indie).
And not only artists came to Malmö: Japanese tourists more or less pilgrimaged to Tambourine Studios to touch the legendary walls.
One of the artists that have recorded numerous times in Tambourine is Hideki Kaji, who I'd met just there a few years ago, so we met up in Tokyo - he lives in London nowadays, but was home in Tokyo for a few weeks to promote his new album. I really like his music, and will try to get some of it on Musicbrigade.
I also met up with Jennie and Jörgen from Cloudberry Jam, who have actually reformed after their break-up in the late 90's, to release albums and tour in Japan only - not in Sweden.
And when we sang karaoke together with some Japanese friends, me and Sohoko sang The Cardigans "Lovefool". New Swedish bands are still getting the opportunity to go to Japan, and I am still jealous!
Japan, fantastic Japan
I've just been on vacation in Tokyo, Japan for two weeks. It was my second time there; my first time was one year ago, April 2006. I had dreamt of Japan since 1994, when I started loving and getting to know lots of Swedish indie bands that became popular in Japan during the 90's.
I specifically remember a New Year's Day after celebrating New Year's Eve in Linköping with Jennie Medin, singer in Cloudberry Jam, when Cloudberry Jam got up early after the party to leave for a tour of Japan, leaving me and Jennie's then boyfriend Emil to clean up the apartment in an extremely jealous hang-over. We tried to cheer up by listening non-stop to McAlmont & Butler's great single "Yes" and watching "Ivanhoe" on tv (that's always on on New Year's Day in Sweden), but we both dreamed of going with them to Japan; where the people loved the same great Swedish bands that we did, where they pick up on trends and make them their own faster than anywhere else, where everybody and everything is soooo much cooler than in Sweden...
Last year I realised that I could actually afford going to Tokyo, so I and my boyfriend booked a trip and went, and it was the absolute coolest thing I've ever done. So why not go again? No reason at all, so we went to the land of cherry-blossoms one more time.
During the 90's there were, like I mentioned, lots of Swedish indie bands that were popular in Japan - most of them might not have sold loads of albums, but to sell a few thousand albums in Japan was a lot more than many of them could ever hope of selling in Sweden with a population of then just 8 million people. This did though create both jealousy and the untrue rumour that the Japanese were kind of stupid and bought whatever crap as long as it came from Sweden. I remember the Brainpool singer Janne Kask saying some utterly brainless comment in a magazine: "The Japanese would buy any music if you put a blond girl with a herring in her hand on the cover" - only because Brainpool failed to hit in Japan. I think that was proof enough that the Japanese did not fall for everything Swedish, but actually chose carefully what music was good enough and what wasn't.
This Swedish wave sent Swedish bands to Japan, but also the other way around: Japanese artists came to Sweden, particularly Malmö, to record their albums. Why Malmö? Because of Eggstone, who were popular in Japan, and who have their own studio Tambourine Studios in Malmö, where The Cardigans (even more popular in Japan) recorded their albums (hence the Eggstone epithet Godfathers of Swedish indie).
And not only artists came to Malmö: Japanese tourists more or less pilgrimaged to Tambourine Studios to touch the legendary walls.
One of the artists that have recorded numerous times in Tambourine is Hideki Kaji, who I'd met just there a few years ago, so we met up in Tokyo - he lives in London nowadays, but was home in Tokyo for a few weeks to promote his new album. I really like his music, and will try to get some of it on Musicbrigade.
I also met up with Jennie and Jörgen from Cloudberry Jam, who have actually reformed after their break-up in the late 90's, to release albums and tour in Japan only - not in Sweden.
And when we sang karaoke together with some Japanese friends, me and Sohoko sang The Cardigans "Lovefool". New Swedish bands are still getting the opportunity to go to Japan, and I am still jealous!
fredag 28 september 2012
Bortglömda texter 5: 21/3-2007
Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
Musikalisk utveckling
Igår tittade jag på en repris av Musikbyrån på SVT, där de intervjuade en musikvideoregissör som just höll på att spela in en video till den ganska hypade artisten Juvelen. Efter en stund kom Juvelen själv för att bli intervjuad av min gamle bekant Magnus Broni (när jag lärde känna honom var det 1995, han hette Bengtsson i efternamn, kallades Bengan och var entusiastisk manager åt ett väldigt bra skövdeband som hette Smash Hit Wonders). Vid något tillfälle har jag kollat upp Juvelen på nätet, och lade märke till att han var rätt snygg på pressbilderna, så när han klev fram i bild var det första som slog mig att han var väldigt mycket kortare än han såg ut på bild. Det är visserligen ett extremt vanligt förekommande fenomen i musikbranschen; nästan alla är väldigt mycket kortare än man tror. Utom Snow Patrol och Willowtree. Sen ploppade det upp en namnskylt, där det stod "Jonas Pettersson, Juvelen". Då slog det mig: Juvelen är ju den där lille söte minikillen från Pineforest Crunch!! I min lilla värld var detta vansinnigt roligt, för: Pineforest Crunch var inte ett band man tog på allvar i indiekretsar, och att nu lille Jonas gått vidare och blivit en hypad och cool artist tyckte jag var nästan komiskt.
Jag ska förklara vad det var med Pineforest Crunch - det här är inte något jag är stolt över, särskilt som jag de senaste åren träffat sångerskan Åsa i jobbsammanhang och gillar henne, men vad är bloggar till för om inte för att vara ärlig? (eller vad vet jag, folk kanske ljuger sig blåa i bloggar, men inte jag)
1996 fick Pineforest Crunch en jättehit med "Cup Noodle Song". 1996 var indie väldigt hett i Sverige, och PC sågs som ett indieband. Problemet var bara att de låg på storbolag (det gjorde även band som Popsicle och Kent, men alla dessa sågs ändå som indieband i den här vågen), och lyckades, tillsammans med stockholmsbandet Naked, att få med sin hit på "Absolute Music 21". Det var inte okej. Folk i mina kretsar, inklusive jag, retade oss till vansinne på PC; vi såg dem som pretentiösa musikhögskoleelever som var för duktiga på att spela, de hade bara en enda bra låt ("Cup Noodle Song"), de såg fåniga ut, Åsa tyckte att hon var så sabla snygg, men i själva verket luktade hon illa, och vem var egentligen den där pyttelilla killen som alltid studsade upp och ner på scen?!
Tjaa, den där lille studsande killen kallar sig numera Juvelen, och gör ganska så bra och creddig musik. Så kan det gå.
Musikalisk utveckling
Igår tittade jag på en repris av Musikbyrån på SVT, där de intervjuade en musikvideoregissör som just höll på att spela in en video till den ganska hypade artisten Juvelen. Efter en stund kom Juvelen själv för att bli intervjuad av min gamle bekant Magnus Broni (när jag lärde känna honom var det 1995, han hette Bengtsson i efternamn, kallades Bengan och var entusiastisk manager åt ett väldigt bra skövdeband som hette Smash Hit Wonders). Vid något tillfälle har jag kollat upp Juvelen på nätet, och lade märke till att han var rätt snygg på pressbilderna, så när han klev fram i bild var det första som slog mig att han var väldigt mycket kortare än han såg ut på bild. Det är visserligen ett extremt vanligt förekommande fenomen i musikbranschen; nästan alla är väldigt mycket kortare än man tror. Utom Snow Patrol och Willowtree. Sen ploppade det upp en namnskylt, där det stod "Jonas Pettersson, Juvelen". Då slog det mig: Juvelen är ju den där lille söte minikillen från Pineforest Crunch!! I min lilla värld var detta vansinnigt roligt, för: Pineforest Crunch var inte ett band man tog på allvar i indiekretsar, och att nu lille Jonas gått vidare och blivit en hypad och cool artist tyckte jag var nästan komiskt.
Jag ska förklara vad det var med Pineforest Crunch - det här är inte något jag är stolt över, särskilt som jag de senaste åren träffat sångerskan Åsa i jobbsammanhang och gillar henne, men vad är bloggar till för om inte för att vara ärlig? (eller vad vet jag, folk kanske ljuger sig blåa i bloggar, men inte jag)
1996 fick Pineforest Crunch en jättehit med "Cup Noodle Song". 1996 var indie väldigt hett i Sverige, och PC sågs som ett indieband. Problemet var bara att de låg på storbolag (det gjorde även band som Popsicle och Kent, men alla dessa sågs ändå som indieband i den här vågen), och lyckades, tillsammans med stockholmsbandet Naked, att få med sin hit på "Absolute Music 21". Det var inte okej. Folk i mina kretsar, inklusive jag, retade oss till vansinne på PC; vi såg dem som pretentiösa musikhögskoleelever som var för duktiga på att spela, de hade bara en enda bra låt ("Cup Noodle Song"), de såg fåniga ut, Åsa tyckte att hon var så sabla snygg, men i själva verket luktade hon illa, och vem var egentligen den där pyttelilla killen som alltid studsade upp och ner på scen?!
Tjaa, den där lille studsande killen kallar sig numera Juvelen, och gör ganska så bra och creddig musik. Så kan det gå.
torsdag 27 september 2012
Bortglömda texter 4: 28/2-2007
Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
My first festival
The beginning of 1994 saw my transformation into a full-blown indie pop freak with a burning love for small Swedish bands. And what place better to go in Sweden to discover new indie music than the Emmaboda festival? The only problem was that by this time I didn't have any friends that shared my taste in music, and there was nobody that wanted to go with me to a small indie festival in the forests of Småland. I was home in Borås for the summer and even though I wasn't all that young my mother didn't want me going alone, but I refused to let that stop me, so finally in a desperate attempt to find someone to go with I actually called the local newspaper in Borås to see if they were covering the festival. As it turned out they weren't, so I quickly offered to write about it for them - so then I had to go.
In 1994 the Emmaboda festival was in June and the Hultsfred festival in August, I think it was in 1996 that they switched months. Emmaboda was by this time quite small; it was only one day, 15 bands and maybe 300 visitors, there were only two portapotties, one water tap and one food stand. I didn't have a tent, but I had spoken to the festival organiser who said that if I didn't find someone to share a tent with I could sleep in the small booth with the sound equipment...
I found my way to the festival, which was in a quite small field with two stages and where the tents were put up right behind the big stage. I started talking to two guys whose tent was too small to house me too, but they kindly offered to let me keep my bag in there.
I felt like I was in heaven: everybody in the place liked just about the same music as me, people dressed according to their taste in music (girls: knee socks, short skirts, hair pins in their bob cut hair, boys: too small t shirts, preferably second hand, often with a gas station brand printed on it), everybody was really nice and friendly and I had 15 concerts ahead of me.
I don't remember the order of the bands, but I saw them all, made notes and talked a little to some of the bands for my article. As soon as one concert ended people turned around, walked a few meters over to the other stage and the next gig started.
The bands that were playing were, in alphabetical order: bob hund, Brainpool, The Cardigans, Cloudberry Jam, Elvert Underground, Green, Kurt Olvars Rebeller, Sonic Surf City, Stevepops, Superwed, Urban Chant, Wagon, Waterbug, Yvonne and Zoobox. Some of them weren't exactly great (and weren't long-lived), but others became favourites of mine, like Cloudberry Jam, Green and Yvonne. Yet others were just in the beginning of a great career, like The Cardigans and Brainpool.
I was walking around by myself and talked to lots of people, among them some of the members of Cloudberry Jam and a friend of theirs, and this actually laid the ground for a friendship that lasted for years. A funny thing that happened that I still remember clearly was that I was talking to Magnus Fridh, the singer in Green, and the guitarist in Elvert Underground came up to us and asked if we were a couple. We said no, and he replied "Too bad, you look like a perfect match. If you get married, we'll play for free at your wedding!" and walked off to the bar. I later learned that this guy was Ola Broquist, one of the founders of the booking agency Luger, so maybe I can get a good deal for a band if I ever get married...
Before the night was over I had made new friends, found new favourite bands, and also bumped into a classmate from my law studies in Uppsala, whose boyfriend was working at the festival, so I could spend the few hours of the night before my early morning train home at his parents' house. So: all in all a great first festival!
- - - - -
(Jag minns att de var väldigt nöjda med att de sprang snyggt i den här videon. :)
(Hittar tyvärr inte den fina videon med Jennie i badkar med gummianka.)
My first festival
The beginning of 1994 saw my transformation into a full-blown indie pop freak with a burning love for small Swedish bands. And what place better to go in Sweden to discover new indie music than the Emmaboda festival? The only problem was that by this time I didn't have any friends that shared my taste in music, and there was nobody that wanted to go with me to a small indie festival in the forests of Småland. I was home in Borås for the summer and even though I wasn't all that young my mother didn't want me going alone, but I refused to let that stop me, so finally in a desperate attempt to find someone to go with I actually called the local newspaper in Borås to see if they were covering the festival. As it turned out they weren't, so I quickly offered to write about it for them - so then I had to go.
In 1994 the Emmaboda festival was in June and the Hultsfred festival in August, I think it was in 1996 that they switched months. Emmaboda was by this time quite small; it was only one day, 15 bands and maybe 300 visitors, there were only two portapotties, one water tap and one food stand. I didn't have a tent, but I had spoken to the festival organiser who said that if I didn't find someone to share a tent with I could sleep in the small booth with the sound equipment...
I found my way to the festival, which was in a quite small field with two stages and where the tents were put up right behind the big stage. I started talking to two guys whose tent was too small to house me too, but they kindly offered to let me keep my bag in there.
I felt like I was in heaven: everybody in the place liked just about the same music as me, people dressed according to their taste in music (girls: knee socks, short skirts, hair pins in their bob cut hair, boys: too small t shirts, preferably second hand, often with a gas station brand printed on it), everybody was really nice and friendly and I had 15 concerts ahead of me.
I don't remember the order of the bands, but I saw them all, made notes and talked a little to some of the bands for my article. As soon as one concert ended people turned around, walked a few meters over to the other stage and the next gig started.
The bands that were playing were, in alphabetical order: bob hund, Brainpool, The Cardigans, Cloudberry Jam, Elvert Underground, Green, Kurt Olvars Rebeller, Sonic Surf City, Stevepops, Superwed, Urban Chant, Wagon, Waterbug, Yvonne and Zoobox. Some of them weren't exactly great (and weren't long-lived), but others became favourites of mine, like Cloudberry Jam, Green and Yvonne. Yet others were just in the beginning of a great career, like The Cardigans and Brainpool.
I was walking around by myself and talked to lots of people, among them some of the members of Cloudberry Jam and a friend of theirs, and this actually laid the ground for a friendship that lasted for years. A funny thing that happened that I still remember clearly was that I was talking to Magnus Fridh, the singer in Green, and the guitarist in Elvert Underground came up to us and asked if we were a couple. We said no, and he replied "Too bad, you look like a perfect match. If you get married, we'll play for free at your wedding!" and walked off to the bar. I later learned that this guy was Ola Broquist, one of the founders of the booking agency Luger, so maybe I can get a good deal for a band if I ever get married...
Before the night was over I had made new friends, found new favourite bands, and also bumped into a classmate from my law studies in Uppsala, whose boyfriend was working at the festival, so I could spend the few hours of the night before my early morning train home at his parents' house. So: all in all a great first festival!
- - - - -
(Jag minns att de var väldigt nöjda med att de sprang snyggt i den här videon. :)
(Hittar tyvärr inte den fina videon med Jennie i badkar med gummianka.)
onsdag 26 september 2012
Bortglömda texter 3: 11/2-2007
Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
A special night
This weekend I met Kristofer Åström, singer in Fireside, and currently with a solo career. I love Kristofer, and have done since 1995.
Over the almost 13 years that I have in one way or another worked with music people have called me a groupie several times (either behind my back or to my face, sometimes jokingly, sometimes not), but I've never really been one. There are quite a few musicians that I've become enamoured with, but it's never been about sex. I have the best boyfriend in the world since 11 years, but I guess that's not proof enough, so I'll try to explain.
Many of my friends prefer to have their musical heroes on pedestals, and they don't want to know anything about them as real people. I'm the exact opposite: I want to know everything about them, I want to get to know them, I want them to know who I am. The reason is that I can't make music, I probably couldn't write a song if my life depended on it. That's why I admire the people who make the music that I love and I want to know all about them and their music. I'm not a groupie, I'm a fan.
My history with Fireside started around the time of their second album: "Do Not Tailgate", in 1995. I got the demo of the album at the Hultsfred festival that summer, it got stolen, but I got it back a few months later. I thought that the music was a bit too heavy for me; by that time they played more or less hardcore rock, but anyway I decided that I wanted to write about them in my fanzine Fozzie. I met Kristofer and bassist Frans Johansson in Uppsala before a gig at Kalmar Nation - it wasn't the best of interviews, but Kristofer said something that hit me later when they started playing.
I was standing in the front row when they came on stage, and they started with a song that I hadn't heard before. It was really down-tempo, with only two guitars and Kristofer sang: "I know sometimes I behave like a monster, but please don't walk away. You can keep me in your basement, as long as I can be with you". That hit me like a fist in my stomach, and I remembered what Kristofer said during the interview: "I'd prefer people to start crying when they see us live, rather than pogo dancing". I just stood there with a lump in my throat with people jumping around behind me, and Fireside had just become one of my favourite bands.
Some weeks later I went to see Fireside again at Östgöta Nation in Uppsala. It has to be said though: Kristofer was at that point the most beautiful boy I knew; with a delicate build and hair dyed black and I loved watching him on stage, I knew every detail, I knew exactly the way he tightened his lips when he sang, and the way he sometimes moved his right hand over the strings of his guitar (the fast upwards stroke with a sudden halt above the strings...).
After the gig I went with the band to an after-party next door, where they had a couple of rooms for the night. Me and Kristofer ended up at an abandoned mattress in the hallway, just talking for hours, until early morning. We talked about everything; music, love, deaths and sorrows, and it was just an amazing night - but nothing physical happened between us, even though I ended up spending the rest of the night sleeping next to Kristofer.
The funny thing is, that when I met Kristofer the other night he told me that the other guys in the band had teased him for days for "getting it on" with me! And a few years ago, a friend just happened to mention the time that I - allegedly - had slept with the drummer in a quite famous band, ten years ago. My jaw just dropped, because absolutely nothing had ever happened with that guy! I only ever met him one-on-one once, in a hotel bar in the afternoon, and there weren't even sparks between us. I was trying to avoid whining about gender here, but there is no avoiding it: had I been a male pop nerd, nobody would ever call me a groupie. But on the other hand, I guess I should be happy that people think I'm hot enough to get pop stars into bed. :)
* Nu såhär i efterhand kan jag väl erkänna: vi pussades godnatt. :) Men inte mer.
Och: när vi gick ut från källaren på morgonen spelades Take That "Never Forget" någonstans ifrån, och Kristofer sa att han tyckte det var en grym låt. Själv tyckte jag att Take That väl måste vara töntiga, de var ju ett pojkband, men Kristofers kommentar fick mig att våga lyssna på dem, och: de var ju fantastiskt roliga!
A special night
This weekend I met Kristofer Åström, singer in Fireside, and currently with a solo career. I love Kristofer, and have done since 1995.
Over the almost 13 years that I have in one way or another worked with music people have called me a groupie several times (either behind my back or to my face, sometimes jokingly, sometimes not), but I've never really been one. There are quite a few musicians that I've become enamoured with, but it's never been about sex. I have the best boyfriend in the world since 11 years, but I guess that's not proof enough, so I'll try to explain.
Many of my friends prefer to have their musical heroes on pedestals, and they don't want to know anything about them as real people. I'm the exact opposite: I want to know everything about them, I want to get to know them, I want them to know who I am. The reason is that I can't make music, I probably couldn't write a song if my life depended on it. That's why I admire the people who make the music that I love and I want to know all about them and their music. I'm not a groupie, I'm a fan.
My history with Fireside started around the time of their second album: "Do Not Tailgate", in 1995. I got the demo of the album at the Hultsfred festival that summer, it got stolen, but I got it back a few months later. I thought that the music was a bit too heavy for me; by that time they played more or less hardcore rock, but anyway I decided that I wanted to write about them in my fanzine Fozzie. I met Kristofer and bassist Frans Johansson in Uppsala before a gig at Kalmar Nation - it wasn't the best of interviews, but Kristofer said something that hit me later when they started playing.
I was standing in the front row when they came on stage, and they started with a song that I hadn't heard before. It was really down-tempo, with only two guitars and Kristofer sang: "I know sometimes I behave like a monster, but please don't walk away. You can keep me in your basement, as long as I can be with you". That hit me like a fist in my stomach, and I remembered what Kristofer said during the interview: "I'd prefer people to start crying when they see us live, rather than pogo dancing". I just stood there with a lump in my throat with people jumping around behind me, and Fireside had just become one of my favourite bands.
Some weeks later I went to see Fireside again at Östgöta Nation in Uppsala. It has to be said though: Kristofer was at that point the most beautiful boy I knew; with a delicate build and hair dyed black and I loved watching him on stage, I knew every detail, I knew exactly the way he tightened his lips when he sang, and the way he sometimes moved his right hand over the strings of his guitar (the fast upwards stroke with a sudden halt above the strings...).
After the gig I went with the band to an after-party next door, where they had a couple of rooms for the night. Me and Kristofer ended up at an abandoned mattress in the hallway, just talking for hours, until early morning. We talked about everything; music, love, deaths and sorrows, and it was just an amazing night - but nothing physical happened between us, even though I ended up spending the rest of the night sleeping next to Kristofer.
The funny thing is, that when I met Kristofer the other night he told me that the other guys in the band had teased him for days for "getting it on" with me! And a few years ago, a friend just happened to mention the time that I - allegedly - had slept with the drummer in a quite famous band, ten years ago. My jaw just dropped, because absolutely nothing had ever happened with that guy! I only ever met him one-on-one once, in a hotel bar in the afternoon, and there weren't even sparks between us. I was trying to avoid whining about gender here, but there is no avoiding it: had I been a male pop nerd, nobody would ever call me a groupie. But on the other hand, I guess I should be happy that people think I'm hot enough to get pop stars into bed. :)
* Nu såhär i efterhand kan jag väl erkänna: vi pussades godnatt. :) Men inte mer.
Och: när vi gick ut från källaren på morgonen spelades Take That "Never Forget" någonstans ifrån, och Kristofer sa att han tyckte det var en grym låt. Själv tyckte jag att Take That väl måste vara töntiga, de var ju ett pojkband, men Kristofers kommentar fick mig att våga lyssna på dem, och: de var ju fantastiskt roliga!
tisdag 25 september 2012
Bortglömda texter 2: 2/2-2007
Hittade några gamla texter från när jag jobbade på Musicbrigade och vi hade nån sorts personaltips-blogg. Återanvänder dem här!
My longest love story
April 7, 1994, Uppsala, Sweden:
An old friend of mine had told me that Eggstone's debut album "In San Diego" was one of the world's five essential must have albums. Another friend told me that bob hund was the most interesting band in Sweden at the time. This night, Eggstone was going to play at Barowiak in Uppsala, with bob hund as supporting act. I went to the concert with a guy I had a crush on (who later that evening out of pure joy stage dived to Eggstone's cover of The Monkees "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone", nobody caught him and he landed on his head...) who was an Eggstone fan. Though I had bought "In San Diego", it hadn't really caught on yet, so I actually had slightly higher hopes for bob hund.
bob hund did their best; the singer Thomas Öberg jumped around, put a traffic cone on his head, choked himself with the microphone cord and all the things he does, but no matter what he did he had absolutely no chance against Eggstone. That night started the longest love story of my life - the one with Per Sunding, Patrik Bartosch, Maurits Carlsson and their own universe of music called Eggstone.
It was so long ago, I'm afraid I don't remember exactly what it was that did it, it was something quite inexplicable: Eggstone was simply the best band I had ever heard. Ever. No Beatles, no Elvis Presley or any other legend measures up to Eggstone in my ears.
I've tried several times to explain what it is, to friends, in my fanzine Fozzie, to myself, but as it always is with love it's impossible to explain exactly why you feel what you feel. But part of the explanation is their mixture of sunny happiness and friendly melancholy, all the instruments that they use, with the vibraphone as the most significant trademark, the incredible melodies and the quirky lyrics, combined with Per, Patrik and Maurits being absolutely loveable people and owners of the legendary Tambourine Studios in Malmö, Sweden.
Eggstone have released three albums: "In San Diego" (1992), "Somersault" (1994) and "Vive La Différence!" (1997). There are also two compilations available: "Spanish Slalom" (Siesta/1998) and "Ça Chauffe En Suede" (Tricatel/1999). They claim that they still exist as a band and that they will record another album, but it's impossible to know when.
I'm still hoping.
My longest love story
April 7, 1994, Uppsala, Sweden:
An old friend of mine had told me that Eggstone's debut album "In San Diego" was one of the world's five essential must have albums. Another friend told me that bob hund was the most interesting band in Sweden at the time. This night, Eggstone was going to play at Barowiak in Uppsala, with bob hund as supporting act. I went to the concert with a guy I had a crush on (who later that evening out of pure joy stage dived to Eggstone's cover of The Monkees "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone", nobody caught him and he landed on his head...) who was an Eggstone fan. Though I had bought "In San Diego", it hadn't really caught on yet, so I actually had slightly higher hopes for bob hund.
bob hund did their best; the singer Thomas Öberg jumped around, put a traffic cone on his head, choked himself with the microphone cord and all the things he does, but no matter what he did he had absolutely no chance against Eggstone. That night started the longest love story of my life - the one with Per Sunding, Patrik Bartosch, Maurits Carlsson and their own universe of music called Eggstone.
It was so long ago, I'm afraid I don't remember exactly what it was that did it, it was something quite inexplicable: Eggstone was simply the best band I had ever heard. Ever. No Beatles, no Elvis Presley or any other legend measures up to Eggstone in my ears.
I've tried several times to explain what it is, to friends, in my fanzine Fozzie, to myself, but as it always is with love it's impossible to explain exactly why you feel what you feel. But part of the explanation is their mixture of sunny happiness and friendly melancholy, all the instruments that they use, with the vibraphone as the most significant trademark, the incredible melodies and the quirky lyrics, combined with Per, Patrik and Maurits being absolutely loveable people and owners of the legendary Tambourine Studios in Malmö, Sweden.
Eggstone have released three albums: "In San Diego" (1992), "Somersault" (1994) and "Vive La Différence!" (1997). There are also two compilations available: "Spanish Slalom" (Siesta/1998) and "Ça Chauffe En Suede" (Tricatel/1999). They claim that they still exist as a band and that they will record another album, but it's impossible to know when.
I'm still hoping.
Bortglömda texter 1: 26/1-2007
Satt och tittade igenom min externa hårddisk där jag sparat typ allt från de senaste fem åren, och hittade ett dokument som jag inte hade något som helst minne av: "MB-blog.doc". Efter att ha grävt djupt i minnet fick jag fram en suddig bild av att vi startade någon sorts personal-blogg på Musicbrigade, där jag jobbade - det vi i huvudsak gjorde på Musicbrigade var att streama och sälja musik och musikvideor, och tanken med den här bloggen var nog att vi i personalen skulle tipsa besökarna om det vi gillade.
The best music in the world
När jag nu läste igenom de få inlägg jag hann göra innan företaget gick i konkurs tyckte jag att det var riktigt bra texter, och det roliga med dem var att de var någon sorts minnessammanfattningar, så jag tänker lägga upp dem här under de kommande dagarna. Några av dem var på engelska och några på svenska - fråga mig inte varför, för det kommer jag verkligen inte ihåg. Men hur som helst - här kommer den första, från 26 januari 2007:
The best music in the world
I thought that for my first Musicbrigade blog I'd start with an introduction - a brief "musical history of Pop-Sara" maybe.
I had the fortune of having a big sister who liked good music, so I started off quite early with not just listening to chart music. Then I moved to Uppsala to study at the university, and discovered a great little record shop (Musikörat) where the staff were happy to help me discover new good music.
They first led me to American alternative rock, like The Posies, Afghan Whigs and Smashing Pumpkins, but then one day in 1993 at Musikörat - I don't really remember why - I asked if I could listen to the Swedish band This Perfect Day's debut album "Rubber Soul".
The first song started off with guitar, violin, and a voice singing "I heard a singer on the radio, he sang about a girl named Jane. He thought their love was always meant to be - must be the dumbest singer I've ever heard". My love life wasn't going too well, so those words were like the best I'd ever heard - so I didn't even finish the song, but bought the album immediately.
It was beautiful: a bright pink jelly pudding on a background of green and blue stripes - the cover was made by Lars Sundh, who I soon discovered made most covers for Swedish indie bands in the early 90's.
That album started my everlasting love affair with Swedish indie. About a year later I started my own fanzine, Fozzie, for which I've since interviewed about a hundred Swedish bands and quite a few international bands too. I also booked bands at the best live venue in Uppsala between the years 1996 and 1998, when the Swindie scene was blossoming.
I don't listen exclusively to Swindie, of course, but for some inexplicable reason it's always Swedish bands that I like the best - with one exception: Snow Patrol. The best band in my world is, and will probably forever be, Eggstone - the legendary trio from Malmö, owners of world renowned Tambourine Studios. I'm still hoping that they will make another album even though it's been ten years since their last one.
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