(I’m quite aware that this is pure narcissicism from the p-o-v of someone whose life humanity minus a tiny group cares little about, as is the general case for the rest of humanity. This is maybe a waste of space and the precious time of anyone, but I excuse myself with the fact that any other shit is a click away, that you’re free to leave at will. A consideration of space, not ‘humility’. With that little piece of brilliant promo, here’s some kind of musical biography)
I grew up in a slumbering town called Mölnlycke, fifteen km from Gothenburg, nationally known for making top-quality toilet paper. I think I wrote my first song in English when I was 12, a three chords little pop thing that I called, I thought very brilliantly at the time, ‘Tale of my heart’. It dealt with summer break and heart break in an intriguing combination, addresssed in somewhat questionable English. Hockey practice took up much time but increasingly little heart, so I quit at fourteen and there were spots to fill. I teamed up that same year, come summer, with my still close friend (post flower-power era) David, the two of us sharing an interest in galopping guitars as we formed a little collective hubris around the fact that we could play better than the people at our respective schools (at least so we believed). Every Friday, more or less, during the last two years of grade school, between four and nine in the school studio, that was the definite and reliable spark of my week. We recorded a four-track demo at the end of 1999, with our two-boy band Funkers Crest, in the popular genre of pop-funk-metal-boy band-rock-country. The critics were divided, but our friends liked it. Around gymnasium time, we went separate ways musically, whilst not quite loosing our hubris and our troubled sense of humour. I practiced electric guitar with head-phones on whilst my sister next-door had friends over learning social skills (they became quite good at it). Come mid gymnasium period, I formed a band with my friends Daniel Sjöstrand and Christian Ehrenborg, C-rias, or Cerias, I’m not sure whether we agreed on the spelling(?) We were ok, I think, when we practiced. Daniel is presently making music with his funk-metal outfit Motherpearl. Christian lived in the South last I spoke to him, working as an engineer (having kids? Piano?). We had a nice rehearsal place at Christian’s (see below)
Christian quit and after some disorientation the band was no more. Adding to the disorientation, I started working shifts in a printer park the year I graduated from high school, working messy hours that effectively blurred night and day. In 2005, my old school chump Karl Risenfors agreed to help me putting together a first demo of my own (thanks again Karl!), recording at his parents’ (thanks again parents!). I had some songs stacked up and I wanted to try the full-band thing. I’m not sure just how much Karl got out of it, but I hope he didn’t think it a complete waste of his time. I felt (feel) thankful though that he put up with me for a while, knowing that he had his own music thing going simultaneously. Karl is presently perfecting beats and doing remixes under the name Krater. The result of our work was a four and a half-track thing I called “First Blaze” (pretentious name? well)
As was sort of expected (and secretly resented), my career didn’t sky-rocket with First Blaze. Luckily my interest in documenting music, at least, increased. I had moved into my first appartment, and in a sweep of nest-leaving enthusiasm filled it with stuff (in retrospect: most stuff is superfluous). The advantage of a full-time job was that I could buy some music equpiment, set up a little recording spot in the bedroom, you know, the usual. For a year or three I wrote material, documented ideas and fiddled with mixing. By autumn 2008 I cut down on the little social life I had and recorded for a period of three months. My parent’s sometimes remind me that I felt like shit at the time. Whatever the case was, two demos popped out of the late pregnancy (peak of pretentious language: giving birth to art) in 2008, a fourteen track collection of old and new stuff that I called ‘Collected buns and biscuits’ and four-track demo, ‘Strange Light Music’
Going on my fift year in the printing park I felt at a sort of dead end. I think I wasn’t reminded too often of this, so it was probably some kind of turning point when my girlfriend at the time said that this work wasn’t for me and encouraged me to begin to study. I’m not sure if I thanked her for that, and even less sure of how she feels about her name being posted here, so, incognito, thank you very much! I moved to Stockholm in the autumn of 2009. No contacts, friends etc, but a place at Stockholm Uni, and a tiny room next to a lady and her twin cats. Over a period of three-something years I made three more demos, as secretly as I could at the lady’s place, and less secretly after a year when I moved to an odd-smelling cottage in Täby. From 2011 to 2013 I started gigging a bit, hobby-style, with friends Ivo and Sara.
By the time we quit I felt the urge to make a “real” record. Through friends I got in contact with Sebastian Ring of Komodo and SeLest, and we set up some recording sessions at his studio in Hammarby Sjöstad, Stockholm, starting in late May of 2013. Summer came and went as I fiddled with singing and additional toy-instruments at home. The sessions and the subsequent mixing took place in oftentimes month-long intervals, with tricky scedules to match, Sebastian’s free-lancing and my own putting together of a thesis in Social anthropology. Having no group, the record was a collection of contributions of musician friends. Nice it was to play the part of sound-detective, to travel around with laptop, soundcard and mic, having colors added peu à peu by the kind people willing to lend their gifts. I also had the great priveledge of getting to know the great spirit of Sebastian through the musical process (a warmly recommended form of socializing for those of you who haven’t yet tried it!). Strange Light Music (all credits to be found under “Music”) was recorded and, more or less, mixed by the end of 2013. After schedule-matching, additional sound paranoia of yours truly and the final mastering of Simon Ring, it was released on Marsh 7:th 2014. In 2016, I promoted my second release The Creek And the Carving with a number of live shows in the Stockholm area. The record was mixed, co-produced and drummed on by Poul Amaliel. It is the result of one week’s drums, percussion and bass recordings in Poul’s Stable Studios in Tobo North of Uppsala, and another week of my own recordings with guests in a studio in central Stockholm.
…. and presently, I’m arranging my third album, to be called Cross-Word Tears, together with a band. Now, who are you?