Feature: Built To Spill - The Stars That Fame Forgot (Uncut)

Beloved of US rock fans. Bottled off by UK rock fans. But it’s not too late for Boise, Idaho’s Doug Martsch and friends.

"I looked up self-indulgence when I read a review of a Neil Young show I attended," says Doug Martsch, the man who, amidst constantly shifting line-ups, is Built To Spill. "The reviewer called the best part of the show, a long beautiful guitar solo, self-indulgent. When applied to music it means without control or direction. This guy was wrong."

A lot of musicians who grew up in the American hardcore scene of the '80s might think, actually, the guy was right. And Martsch, for a while, was one of them. In Boise, Idaho, where he grew up, a thriving hardcore scene dominated local rock clubs. He joined one of its most prominent acts, State Of Confusion, before moving to Seattle to form proto-grungesters Treepeople.

But Martsch's curiosity led him beyond these narrow confines to acts like The Smiths, David Bowie, REM and, most significantly, another band who broke the punk rules, Dinosaur Jr. He set up Built To Spill in 1993, and it was J Mascis' formidable guitar excursions that made him understand that punk rock sensibilities could be mixed with classic rock, without losing any of their impact.

"Doug is like the third of the holy triumvirate," says Christof Ellinghaus, who signed BTS to his City Slang label. "First there was Neil Young, then there was J Mascis, and now there's Doug himself. But each of them has their own thing going on, and what Built To Spill does is totally unique."

On their first two albums, 1993's shaky Ultimate Alternative Wavers and the considerably more refined There's Nothing Wrong With Love, it was Martsch's voice that drew comparisons with Young; the deliberately scruffy charms of songs like "Car" and "In The Morning" were closer to Pavement or the Flaming Lips. Nowadays he's ambivalent about such early recordings. "Some aspects, like my voice, make me cringe," he admits, "but there's a lot of stuff I'm proud of. Mostly, though, it's hard to listen to old stuff because I hear things that could have been done better."

Martsch is also pretty self-deprecating about live shows from that time. In 1995, the band opened for the Foo Fighters on their European tour. Dave Grohl might have been enthusiastic about BTS, but his fans were less keen. Apparently enraged by the presence of a cello onstage and Martsch's sensitive and complex songs, the audiences regularly rewarded the band with a hail of missiles. "We had bad responses that whole tour," he observes now, "partly because we were playing with the Foo Fighters, but also because we just weren't that good."

Built To Spill did not return to Europe until 1999, an absence Martsch ascribes to a fear of flying. In the meantime, though, he had made his masterpiece. On 1997's Perfect From Now On, Martsch confidently staked out his territory: elaborate epics with a three-pronged guitar assault, a sort of jam band for indie rockers. Producer Phil Ek, who subsequently recorded The Shins and Fleet Foxes, calls it "pure genius". Ellinghaus reckons it is, "The biggest leap I've ever witnessed in terms of artistic development". And even the reticent Martsch admits, "I don't know if it's our best album, but I think it's the best one to play." Which explains why the band are tackling it in its entirety for a Don't Look Back show in London.

"Doug's hilarious, really outgoing, and also relaxed and very articulate," says Ek, who worked with the band on five albums. "His music is just like him. They work efficiently and experimentally. Doug likes to work hard, but he also wants to get it done as soon as possible."

For Keep It Like Secret, Martsch streamlined the extravagances and kept the songs relatively short. But while their reputation as one of the key alternative bands in the US kept growing, BTS' profile in Europe withered so completely that Ancient Melodies Of The Future (2001) was not even released here. Martsch was so busy with touring Ancient Melodies in the US, and then with a folk and blues-inspired solo album (Now You Know), that he claims he didn't notice.

"I've never spent too much time thinking into the future," he explains nonchalantly, "and I don't pay much attention to what's going on in music."

Martsch remains, though, unafraid of acknowledging his heroes. On "You Were Right" (from 1999's Keep It Like A Secret), he references Kansas, Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix in swift succession: "You were right when you said all we are is dust in the wind / you were right when you said we are all just bricks in the wall / and when you said manic depression's a frustrating mess." It's the unabashed influence of Neil Young that is most enduring, however, and a 20-minute version of "Cortez The Killer" on 2000's Live album proves that, unlike most contemporary guitarists who aspire to the company of Young, Martsch actually deserves the comparison.

"We like to jam," he says, not unlike his hero, "and when you improvise there's always the risk of failing. We make the records exactly as we want, and tour when and where we want. We don't make any compromises that are troubling."

Your Cup Spilleth Over: CDs Built To Last

There’s Nothing Wrong With Love (1994)

4/5

Hailed by the press but shunned by Cool Britannia’s citizens, Martsch’s second album offered angular, jangling indie-rock drawing comparisons to Pavement and Neil Young. “Wanna see movies of my dreams”, pleads the cello-embellished ‘Car’. We got soundtracks instead.

Perfect From Now On (1997)

5/5

Less ‘Harvest’, more ‘Like A Hurricane’. US label Warners got into the spirit, releasing ‘Untrustable Part 2’ over two sides of a 7” to emphasise Perfect’s radio-unfriendly sprawling ambition. Tempo changes, poignant and existential lyrics, colossal riffery, poise and perfection.

Live (2000)

4/5

Even without the explosive 19 minute ‘Broken Chairs’ and an apocalyptic 20 minute ‘Cortez The Killer’ cover, this would be a perfect introduction to a perfect live band. ‘Car’ is souped up, and ‘Randy Described Eternity’ does just what it says on the tin.

You In Reverse (2007)

4/5

A welcome return after five years, with most songs over five minutes, including the thunderous nine minute ‘Goin’ Against Your Mind’. ‘Conventional Wisdom’ goes all Tom Verlaine, while ‘Mess with Time’ even swings from Mascis-style soloing to reggae.

Feature: Built To Spill - The Stars That Fame Forgot (Uncut)

Album Review: The Fifth Dimension - The Magic Garden (Uncut)

4/5 
Unfairly forgotten Jimmy Webb collaboration

Though hot on the heels of his ‘Up, Up And Away’, The 5th Dimension’s Webb-penned Magic Garden never even made the US Top 100. Perhaps its conceptual approach – documenting a stormy relationship and including the less than romantic ‘Carpet Man’ (“she walks all over you… you’re a carpet man”) – was uninviting, while its leadoff single, a sluggish version of ‘Ticket To Ride’ fortunately shifted here to the album’s end, bore little relation to such pyschedelic soul. But Webb’s lyrical honesty, and the 5th Dimension’s warmth – especially on the brief but heartbreaking ‘Prologue’ – make this a crucial constituent of both their canons.

Album Review: The Fifth Dimension - The Magic Garden (Uncut)

Photos & Feature: Berlin - My Part In Its Downfall

Berlin is, without a doubt, as magical a city as I have ever known, and it's a true privilege to be able to live here. I've written about one of my favourite areas for The Guardian - http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2008/oct/11/berlin-germany?page=all - and you can enjoy a taste of the good life below...

Photos & Feature: Berlin - My Part In Its Downfall

Album Review: Cannonball Adderley & The Nat Adderley Sextet - Soul Zodiac (Uncut)

4/5
A solar-powered soul jazz stew

Overshadowed by his brother (and Miles Davis collaborator) Julian ‘Cannonball’ Adderley, cornet player Nat was still a key component in the Cannonball run of success. So after a series of overlooked albums his reward was public endorsement, and the opportunity to release two David Axelrod-produced concept albums, Soul of The Bible and the reissued Soul Zodiac. This cratedigger’s gold is full of pyschedelic spaced-out jazz funk but its narrator, LA DJ Rick Holmes, steals the show: each track represents a horoscope sign which he defines with outrageous Barry White-style voiceovers. A double CD of Cannonball Adderley and Axelrod’s work, Walk Tall, is also available.

Album Review: Cannonball Adderley & The Nat Adderley Sextet - Soul Zodiac (Uncut)

Feature: Pioneers - An interview with Warp Records' Steve Beckett (The Observer)

“I get so frustrated when I hear people blabbing about record companies ripping off artists,” says Steve Beckett, co-founder of independent label Warp Records, with a wry smile, “when we are investing hundreds of thousands of pounds of our own money into basically a song! Can you imagine going to a bank and saying, “Can I have a few hundred thousand pounds with no security on anything ‘cos I’ve got a good song?” They’d laugh you out of the building. But we do that every day!”

Now approaching its twentieth birthday, Warp Records has become one of the great success stories of British music. Founded in 1989 out of a Sheffield record shop by Beckett and business partner Rob Mitchell – who died in 2001 of cancer – the company has specialised in proving that there is a market for experimentation despite the well-publicised deterioration of the music industry. Acts like LFO (who gave the label Top 20 hits within their first four releases), Aphex Twin (famous for, amongst other things, DJ-ing with sandpaper), Boards Of Canada (beloved of Radiohead) and, most recently, Battles have confirmed that it is still possible to take risks and achieve commercial success.

Beckett’s secret is that he has always remained true to his and Mitchell’s original vision. “Truly experimental music will stick out from the crowd and reach an audience,” he argues, “so we worked out a way of making a business model out of it.” And while hoardes of other independent labels have meanwhile been forced to the wall or at least cap in hand to the major labels, Warp has remained fully autonomous.

“I’m not motivated by money at all,” Beckett confirms, “and if I was I certainly wouldn't invest in the music business, because the risk is probably similar to betting on a horse race! But in my experience something that blows my mind will probably not be commercial suicide. People pay good money to have their minds blown”

Warp started out life offering, loosely speaking, dance music, and their constant belief in innovative sounds – combined with a strong identity courtesy of Designer’s Republic, who provided artwork for the majority of their releases – swiftly established their reputation as a label that discerning music fans could trust. But over the years the label has branched out, working with acts as diverse as songwriter Gravenhurst, post-punk revivalists Maximo Park and even moonlighting film director Vincent Gallo. Through it all the label’s supporters have remained loyal, recognising Beckett’s ability to “follow my ears. I just go with my gut and then worry about success afterwards.”

It’s not just Beckett’s ability to recognise songs worthy of investment that has made Warp such an influential company, however. In 2004 he launched the award-winning Bleep, a digital music store that, unlike most of its rivals, refused to employ Digital Rights Management (DRM) systems that limited where the music could be played.

“We realised no one wanted DRM downloads when you could just get music free without DRM,” he explains of his controversial but ultimately successful decision. “It’s just like anything: testing the water and getting your own real time direct market research on whether people want something or not.”

This freethinking approach also led Beckett to set up production company Warp Films in 1999. The label had already proved itself unusually visionary through its music video commissioning, working most notably with Chris Cunningham, who had cut his teeth developing animatronics for Alien 3, Judge Dredd and on Kubrick’s AI. His revolutionary videos for Aphex Twin’s Come To Daddy and Windowlicker brought Beckett into contact with the likes of Lynne Ramsey (director of Morvern Callar) and close-to-the-bone satirist Chris Morris (The Day Today, Brasseye).

“I realised we’d got a similar connection with these people that we had with our artists,” Beckett elaborates, and in 2003 the company’s first release, My Wrongs #8245-8249 & 117, justified their mutual faith in one another, winning that year’s Best Short Film BAFTA Award for director Chris Morris. Since then the company has gone from strength to strength: in particular their association with writer and director Shane Meadows has seen them produce two more award winning movies, their first feature Dead Man’s Shoes and 2006’s gritty but unforgettable This Is England.

Naturally the aesthetic behind Warp Films – which now employs ten people in Sheffield though the label itself has moved to London – remains similar to Warp Records’, with Beckett well aware of the parallels. “Whether it’s an artist, a film maker or a musician, I look for authenticity, fearlessness, spontaneity, and an appreciation for and ability to express beauty.”

It’s undeniably these qualities that have allowed Warp, in all its guises, to maintain its groundbreaking approach. Beckett’s belief in artists rather than executives may have kept him out of the limelight despite his success, but it has led to some of the most exciting music and film to emerge in the last twenty years.

“I prefer to carve my own route and trust my own judgements,” he concludes. “I don’t wake up and think, “let’s be pioneering today”, but I do try and work with the most talented people that I can find. We have put out the best music and art we have been able to, and made it available and known to as many people as possible. Every year I think it can’t last another year, but it does, and it keeps on growing.”

Feature: Pioneers - An interview with Warp Records' Steve Beckett (The Observer)

Photos & Feature: The Festival On Top Of The World

 

I first visited Norway's Træna Festival - on islands out at sea off the coast of Bodø right on the edge of the Arctic Circle - in July 2008. I hope to be there every year now, at least until global warming sinks the archipelago. You can read the article I wrote for The Guardian at http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2008/jul/21/norway.festivals?page=all, and proof that anyone can take a good picture somewhere this beautiful is available below:

Photos & Feature: The Festival On Top Of The World

Album Review: Various Artists - The In-Kraut Vol. 3 (Uncut)

3/5
It wasn’t all Can and Kraftwerk

The third and final instalment of this eye-opening series confirms that while Carnaby Street was still swinging as the 60s became the 70s, the Germans had a groovy revolution of their own going on. Dieter Zimmerman’s brassy take on ‘Whole Lotta Love’ and Adam & Eve’s garage-grooves on ‘The Witch’ are highlights, but few are more trippy than Karl Shiller’s politician sampling ‘High’ and Pulp-endorsed Peter Thomas, whose previously unreleased ‘The World Is Gone’ leaves its vocalist Joe Quick a hysterical gibbering wreck. This is a proud document of an unfairly neglected musical counterculture.

Album Review: Various Artists - The In-Kraut Vol. 3 (Uncut)

Album Review: Adorable - Footnotes '92-'94 (Uncut)

3/5
Creation also-rans attempt to celebrate themselves

Too late for shoegazing, too early for ladrock, Coventry’s Adorable were victims of label boss Alan McGee’s and frontman Pete Fijalkowski’s overexcited gobs. The world wasn’t ready for Oasis / Embrace style self-aggrandisement so their arrogance alienated floppy-fringed indie kids, and their mildly stoned indie rock also lacked anthems like Chapterhouse’s ‘Pearl’ or Ride’s ‘Dreams Burn Down’. Early tunes ‘Sunshine Smile’, ‘Glorious’ and ‘Sistine Chapel Ceiling’ suggest greater things ahead, but sleevenotes reading like David Brent reminiscing about ‘The Free Love Highway’ are the highlight here: “Kevin Shields got one more phonecall than we ever got…”

Album Review: Adorable - Footnotes '92-'94 (Uncut)

Album Review: Cassius Clay - I Am The Greatest (Uncut)

4/5
The world’s finest boxer flexes his comic muscle

By 1962 Cassius Clay’s quickwitted charisma had made him a hero, inevitably attracting Columbia Records’ attention. Fortunately kindred spirit Sam Cooke was on hand to guide Clay through a spirited version of ‘Stand By Me’, sidestepping the era’s usually exploitative methods. It’s the rest of this spoken word album that packs a punch, though, Clay displaying magnificent timing with a series of knowingly arrogant poems and skits: “If Cassius says a cow can lay an egg, don’t ask how: grease that skillet!“ Shortly afterwards Clay became Muhammad Ali, Nation Of Islam member and conscientious objector. The record was pulled from stores.

Album Review: Cassius Clay - I Am The Greatest (Uncut)

Album review: Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip - Angles (Uncut)

3/5
Original poet material from the Essex streets

Fixing hip hop “as best (he) can”, Scroobius Pip’s Estuary English makes him the Southern Mike Skinner. Backed by Dan Le Sac’s Space Invaders-era Casios, Radiohead samples and a spluttering beatbox – the only thing that stutters here – the motormouth may look like a ranting pub bore from Little Britain, but here proves the common sense of ‘Thou Shalt Not Kill’ was no novelty. Dispensing with “artless lyrics” and “heartless gimmicks”, he addresses subjects as diverse as self-harm, religion and the magic of Tommy Cooper, making this an entertaining and enlightening debut.

Album review: Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip - Angles (Uncut)

Album Review: The Cinematic Orchestra - Live At The Royal Albert Hall 02.11.2007 (Uncut)

 
4/5
Ninjatune veterans pull out all the stops

After almost a decade of genre-defying releases, Jason Swinscoe and co. continue to resist The Fast Show’s “jazzzz” stigma, mainly by throwing soul, films scores and electronica into the mix. Backed by a 24 piece orchestra and joined by guests including Lou Rhodes (for the sombre ‘Time And Space’), the grit of smaller shows is here sacrificed in favour of slick meditative grooves more appropriate to such prestigious surroundings. One ill-advised improvisational indulgence aside, this confirms that their name still does exactly what it says on the tin.

Album Review: The Cinematic Orchestra - Live At The Royal Albert Hall 02.11.2007 (Uncut)

Album Review: Dawn Kinnard - The Courtesy Fall (Uncut)

4/5
Assured debut from preacher’s daughter

Her groomed Avril Lavigne looks will make purists suspicious, but Dawn Kinnard deserves mainstream success. Produced in London by Martin Terefe (KT Tunstall, Ron Sexsmith, with whom she’s toured), the Pennsylvania born Harley obessive’s debut showcases a voice smoky like a sleepy Eartha Kitt. Ed Harcourt guests on ‘Clear The Way’, close friend Cerys Matthews co-writes ‘One Little Step Away’ (strangely reminiscent of Blur’s ‘Sing’), but it’s the melodically powerful Lucinda Williams-meets-Coldplay delivery of ‘No Different Now’ and ‘All In Your Head’ that stand out. ‘White Walls’’s seven minutes also provide an unexpectedly psychedelic, if glossy, finale.

Album Review: Dawn Kinnard - The Courtesy Fall (Uncut)

Live Review: Kenneth Ishak (by:Larm News)

WHAT'S THE FREQUENCY, KENNETH?

Taking time out from Beezewax, Kenneth Ishak proves it doesn’t always matter if you’ve heard it all before.

It’s bad form to talk about oneself in a review, but what the hell. I’m never going to make it as the new Lester Bangs any other way…

A few years ago I was co-running a small independent boutique record label in the UK. We specialised in 7” singles, the kind prized by collectors and indie kids alike. I received an email from a gentleman named Ken Stringfellow, a name familiar from the sleeve of my copy of Frosting on The Beater by The Posies’, for whom he was the frontman. He crafted what can only be described as classic rock, the kind you’d hear on FM stations in America throughout the 70s. The music was perfect: Stringfellow pulled all the right moves and had an undeniable way with a tune. But we turned him down. We were unmoved. It was like a perfect Xerox: immaculate but unoriginal.

The following night I visited London’s Earls Court Arena to see REM play. Michael Stipe introduced the band and, pointing to the keyboard player, announced the presence of none other than Mr Stringfellow himself. I felt a strange kind of pride at having turned down the chance of releasing a single by a member, albeit only temporary, of REM. It did make me question my decision, however. Perhaps I had missed the point.

NONE OF YOUR BEES WAX: The story comes to mind while I watch Kenneth Ishak attempting to shake some life into those gathered for this mid afternoon show in the city centre, and not just because Stringfellow has played with and produced Ishak. Once again I face the same dilemma. It all seems so polished, so obvious. This is classic rock again, no doubt about it, but sometimes ‘classic rock’ is merely shorthand for ‘strong on technique, low on fresh ideas’. This is the kind of music that other musicians love. It’s educated, respectful, and it allows them to discuss their extensive vinyl collection. It often lacks passion, however, and his band reflect that: they’re proficient, but anonymous. Their presence on stage seems pedestrian, like they’re just waiting to punch their cards as they leave the stage and pick up their fee. But as the show progresses the fact that everything is in its right place, meaning that it is initially predictable, makes way for a feeling of reassuring familiarity.


IT’S SOUL, BROTHER: New Rising Sun is the first sign that he’s got what it takes, and as the band slowly comes to life he confirms his ability to write far more than mere pastiches, cranking up the volume more than the sunshine powerpop of his recent Silver Lightning From A Black Sky album might suggest. At one stage he and his second guitarist riff in unison like they’re ZZ Top, at other points he breaks songs down and builds them up again revealing a definite love of soul masters like Curtis Mayfield and Donny Hathaway. They jam with conviction, and even though Ishak looks somewhat frustrated by the low turnout, as though he would rather be in bed preparing for another night out at Mono with the dudes, you can tell he’s starting to enjoy himself when a coy grin spreads across his face as he catches his bassist’s eye.

He moves to the keyboard, offering a glimpse of another clear influence, Todd Rundgren, but by now it’s clear that he’s capable of doing more than simple replication. When he finally brings things to a showstopping climax with more vintage riffage it’s clear that he’s won over the cynics. You don’t have to be a musician to dig these vibes.

Live Review: Kenneth Ishak (by:Larm News)

Feature: Måose (by:Larm News)

MAOSE OF THE RISING SUN

It takes either a special kind of bravery or naivety to our your heart out on the stage of one of by:Larm’s biggest venues at 3pm with just a piano for company, only to find out that there might be more people at Hannibal Lector’s funeral. In the case of twenty year old Åse Fredheim it is more than likely a combination of both factors: with her vast arsenal of songs she has plenty to be courageous about, while her youth and relative lack of experience quite possibly mean that she has little reason to expect anyone to turn up at all.

CAT AND MAOSE: Those who made the effort to visit the VG Tent on Wednesday afternoon, though, sat there nursing cups of coffee that were far less medicinally soothing than what was taking place on the stage. For twenty five minutes Maose (as she likes to call herself) captivated her audience with a sublime collection of bewitching and unashamedly sentimental songs.

Asked to describe her shows she calls them “a moment of honesty” and, fittingly, she doesn’t seem to be lying. Asked to describe her music, however, she ‘s impressively modest.

“I don't want to describe it. I don't even think I could if I wanted to.

Usually when people ask I just say: I play the piano and sing.”

PUPPY LOVE: Maose was born in North Norway, from where her family originate, but moved down to the South when she was one “in a caravan” with “puppies being born under it”, or so her myspace page claims. She started writing songs when she was eleven and, nine years later, has registered 89 songs, of which almost half form a regular part of her set.

Currently unsigned, her recordings are restricted to (inevitably) MySpace which reveals that, on tape at least, she doesn’t limit herself to one instrument as she currently does on stage. Take A Photo, with its enigmatic refrain of “Will you have sushi with me?” (a t-shirt slogan waiting to happen) is adorned with accordion and what sounds like the haunting sound of plucked harp, while Come is driven along by simple percussion and harmonies that owe an undeniable debt to Kate Bush though they never drift into parody. She admits that she thinks of performing with a band.

“In my head I hear much more then I can play on my own,” she concedes, “but I'm afraid I'm terribly stubborn about how it needs to sound to come together the way I've imagined it.”

MAOSE MUSIC: She’s started experimenting already, though. “I brought a drummer to play with me on Skjærgårds-festival last summer,” she adds, “and that went really well.”

But even with just the naked tones of a piano she manages to milk every last drop of emotion from her songs. Despite the empty space around her on stage and in the venue, there’s an intimacy to her writing that is strikingly seductive and it’s this that should draw her attention from canny, farsighted labels looking to repeat the success of Joana Newsome (who is actually considerably less accessibly than Maose) or, if one can return to the old school, Joni Mitchell, whose purity of both voice and emotional resonance are clearly an inspiration.

WATER BABY: Dressed in a lace trimmed brown vintage dress, a striking short haircut with a solitary plait to one side framing an indisputably pretty face, there’s a rustic charm to her appearance and a touching self-consciousness to her delivery. There’s also a pleasing tinge of eccentricity in her lyrics, many of which seem to draw upon imagery of ice and water. “I suppose water in different forms symbolises emotions,” she explains. “It seems I can't leave them out.”

Scandinavia has always excelled at producing ethereal, emphatically feminine musical voices, from Bel Canto to Bjork, from Stina Nordenstam to (the admittedly instrumental) amiina. Maose may soon join that impressive list, and one hopes that by the end of her three by:Larm showcases she’ll have gathered enough new fans to make that possible.

MAOSE FACES THE BY:LARM INQUISITION

Q: Are there songs you wrote when you were very young that you still consider to be good? 

A: A few. I like the pureness in them.

Q: Where does the name Maose come from?

A: I was having coffee with a friend of mine, who came up with Mouse. It suits you, she said. I wanted something closer to my name, Åse, so I changed a few letters, and there it was: Maose. I like the sound of it.

Q: Is this your first time playing ByLarm? 

A: Yes, sir.

Q: How does it feel to be playing ByLarm and what does it mean to you as an artist?

A: It feels slightly crazy, but I like it. I think By:Larm will teach me with its seminars and inspire me with its music. As an artist that's priceless.

Q: Do you think this kind of event can play a useful role in your career?

A: Yes, I think it might. Obviously it's made a difference for a lot of artists already. You never know who's out there in the audience. Aside from that, I need to feel that I, if only for a few seconds, really share something. That it makes a difference for someone else other than just me. By:Larm gives me that opportunity.

Q: Did you enjoy your show in the VG Tent?

A: I didn't get it all out up there, but YES. Usually, after a concert I feel really at peace. Sometimes though, it's all more static. This whole thing keeps me constantly exited!

Q: Have you been touring a lot?

A: Not really. My previous year was sort of a practice year. I just went through the songs over and over, taped them, corrected myself, and moved forward with them. I feel more confident after doing that. Now I'm free to play them any way I feel because they're so completely in me.

Q: Do you ever get lonely on stage? On tour?

A: Rarely. But I felt a bit lonely yesterday. Maybe it's because I cut my long hair since my last concerts. It's not there to keep me company anymore. Gah.

Q: What can people expect from a Maose album?

A: The door from my mind would be wide open.  I would want to create a home for each song, with different sound, colour, feeling. I need rhythm. I need surprises. 

Q: What can people expect from a Maose show?

A: Passion of some sort. Stories from the past and the present. It varies a lot from time to time: what I have to give, I give. Sometimes I throw in a joke!

Q: What do you think of the Scandinavian music scene at the moment?

A: I'm afraid I'm missing out at the moment. I have periods of listening, and periods of writing and playing. Nowadays I'm playing, and if I listen to anything now it's got to be something very different. In other words, 2008 so far has been all Bob Marley and Miriam Makeba for me.

Q: Do you think it makes any difference where an artist comes from?

A: Yes. I think everything matters. You're a result of all that has happened to you, the noises you've heard, the scent in the wind, the people you've met and known, the people you haven't met yet. What to make of it is another story. In the end, I think any person can play the blues.

Feature: Måose (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Lykke Li (by:Larm News)

LYKKE NUMBERS

Will Lykke Li have what it takes to make it to the top? There’s enough people here who think so…

Valentine’s Day, 2008: in the former conference room of the soon-to-be-closed Berlin office of EMI lie thousands of CDs, the hopes and dreams of musicians shattered. This is the reality of the music industry in a nutshell: the vast majority of the artists signed to labels never make it. These CDs, by artists largely unknown outside of the walls of their record label, are destined for charity stores and landfill. It’s not worth the money and time to organise shipping them back to a warehouse and then trying to sell them again. It’s easier and cheaper to pretend they never even existed.

One week later, 2008: the sound of champagne corks echoes across the balcony of Stratos, the venue overlooking Oslo’s concrete skyline. Lykke Li has, it seems, today agreed to sign a significant international deal that within days will become official. Will she justify the faith that a wealthy label feels confident in investing in her, or will she, too, end up confined to the waste containers through which junkies trawl for anything that they can sell for pennies to fund their habits? It’s a harsh question, but it’s at the heart of the crisis facing record labels today. More and more, every signing has become a gamble. More and more is now at stake.

SWEDE SUCCESS: Is Lykke Li worth all the talk that has dominated the minds of gossip hounds across Oslo this weekend? Certainly the 21 year old Swede has been the name to drop since Wednesday, not just by delegates but also by locals eager to see one of the vast number of by:Larm bands propelled to success by this year’s convention. There’s pride at risk here. People want to see one of their own spread their wings and fly out into the world.

It seems that, for the most part, the industry is tonight convinced, on the whole, that Lykke Li will be the triumph that Oslo’s convention will be remembered for. The queue for this delegate-only show is the hottest ticket of the night, eager crowds waiting for the limited entrance up to the twelfth floor where she waits to impress them. Inside the venue the suits congratulate themselves on a job well done, and deservedly so, but whether it will work depends upon which way the wind blows.

DANCE DANCE TO THE RADIO: Certainly the ingredients are all there. On Monday the renowned ‘alternative pop’ label Moshi Moshi will release a single in the UK that guarantees her the credibility the marketing men know she will need. Their choice of tune – Little Bit – is carried by a summery and instant melody that showcases her cutesy voice to perfection. Tonight it’s bass heavy, dance friendly, and notable for the way in which she delivers the title with a hint of a Kate Nash-style London accent. It will undoubtedly provide the momentum that her entourage need, and highlights once again that Moshi Moshi have an enviable pop nous.

It’s far from atypical of her style, dominated by mildly tribal beats that will undoubtedly lend themselves to a slew of remixes by top name DJs. Let It Fall, too, is perfect for reinterpretation for the world’s dancefloors, strangely reminiscent tonight of a more poppy Siouxsie And The Banshees with the corners worn down. It’s as edgy as she gets, but she remains, as an astute observer nearby comments, suitably distraught to appeal to fourteen year old girls as well as a more adult audience looking for the next pop sensation.

MATERIAL GIRL: To say that she’s been rolled off a factory line of perfect pop stars is perhaps a little harsh, but all the necessary ingredients are in place. She dances with style, she’s capable of being sultry and sexy, dark and domineering, immediate and chart friendly all at once. She’s going to be the envy of A&Rs across the world, but only as long as her potential is fulfilled. There’s hints of Madonna in the crafty way in which she presents her music, and it comes as no surprise to hear that when she lived in Portugal for a while the only record she had with her was a La Ciccone cassette: everything about her performance is cosmetically flawless and perfectly crafted, something also clearly evident in her debut album Youth Novels, produced with true style by Bjorn Yttling (of Peter, Bjorn and John.)

This is not to say that she lacks depth. Far from it, in fact. Window Blues shows a more intense side to her, though if it’s comparable to Amy Winehouse it’s a healthier Amy Winehouse. She also exhibits a witty side to her work, introducing I’m Good, I’m Gone with a crafty nod to Lou Reed’s A Walk On The Wild Side and A Tribe Called Quest’s Can I Kick It. And she’s got the tunes, though even with a voice capable of ostensible innocence she’s more Catsuit than Cardigans.

As the suits down the front party like it’s their own wedding, and the marketing men start their planning at the back, there’s no earthly reason at all why Lykke Li should fail. But presumably that’s what people thought about all the other artists whose CDs now lie gathering dust in that office in Berlin. It’s down to fate now. Talent, radio-friendly tunes, the might of a global label, winning looks and a charming personality are still no guarantee of success. We wish you well. We really do. You deserve it as much as anyone, no doubt about it.

Live Review: Lykke Li (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Boys In The Band (by:Larm News)

THE PHAROAH KINGS

If you came to Oslo to party, there was only one place to be, and that was with Boys In The Band...

Come on, admit it: if you were given an atlas you’d have less chance of finding the Faroe Islands on the map than spotting George Bush at a peace rally. Certainly your roving by:Larm correspondent is ashamed to say that he’s not entirely certain he had even heard of the Faroe Islands until he was introduced to the boss of the G! Festival at by:Larm a couple of years ago. But that’s all about to change. Boys In The Band are (back) in town!

LORDS OF THE DANCE: They open proceedings in an absolutely rammed Indigo club by huddling together around the drum kit like a rugby scrum, apparently praying (though they may have been discussing their setlist with religious fervour. Certainly their show was perfectly paced.) It’s hard to know what they’re praying for, but whoever they were addressing their fervent pleas to must have listened: the kids from the Faroes win more fans tonight than Manchester United have won trophies. And they did this without a single million pound player in their side.

The religious theme continues with vocalist / guitarist Zachariasson playing the role of preacher man with the same intense fervour as The Make Up / Nation Of Ulysses lynchpin Ian Svenonious, but his call to arms is simply to have a good time all the time. He has to fight for attention, but it’s only with other members of his band, who provide an equally impressive spectacle. Keytar player Heri Schwarz manages not only to sport a beard that without doubt wins the by:Larm Facial Hair Of The Festival Award, but he also gets away with playing a keyboard strapped round his neck like he’s a member of some shocking 80s synth pop band, albeit one stranded on a desert island without a razor for at least a year. Props too to drummer The Rógvi who proves himself tighter than Pete Doherty’s trousers, though frankly it’s not fair to single out any member of the band: they’re a gang, and gangs operate in numbers, as they prove when mock-fighting for mike space as they do during the chorus of Son Of Man.

BOY’S ZONE: 60's garage rock and maximum surf rock are their specialty, but they inject it with a sense of humour as relentless as the speed with which they tear through their songs. In fact the most immediate impression is of ? And The Mysterions playing punk rock, though they throw in some of the more chaotic elements of The Fall on rockabilly overdrive. Like The Hives and Mando Diao, they clearly have a deep and sincere love for the music on which they draw, and while they raise laughs with their between-song banter – “you can do all sorts of shit on stage,” Zachariasson declares with unquestionable pleasure – they take their music very seriously indeed.

This is not throwaway at all: each song boasts frantic tempos and choruses that speed past like A&RS waving cheques at Lykke Li, and their desire to involve the audience in their performance makes them as engaging as any band to have graced a stage in a good long while. They leap into the audience, encourage the crowd to shout at the soundman in unison to turn up the guitars so that guitar solos can be heard better, and even insist that everyone in the audience introduce themselves. By screaming their names at the stage. All at once.


ALL’S WHALE THAT END’S WHALE: Then they break into Beyond Communication, a song that steals heavily from Neil Hefti’s classic Batman theme tune, proving once again that if you’re going to lift from the classics, you want to make sure you choose your classics carefully. When they introduce another tune as “The Greatest Song In The World” not one person in the audience has the will to argue, though this may be because it sounds like every classic rock and roll song ever written bundled up into one sweaty mass of riffs.

It’s hard to think of a band better suited to the by:Larm format, their 25 minutes speeding faster than the junkies outside Oslo’s Central Station. There’s no doubt about it: if anyone can put The Faroe Islands on the map right now, it’s Boys In The Band.

Live Review: Boys In The Band (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Maria Due (by:Larm News)

She opens solo with a softly delivered fragile tune that recalls fellow Scandinavian Stina Nordenstam, but with the addition of her band her voice seems almost to put on weight. When, soon after, she starts to sing in French she even begins to sound a little like Camille, a hint of bossa nova like perfume in the air. In fact her style, her general demeanour and overall insouciance is all very Paris. And, whatever you think of the French, this is, in music, a good thing. Her songs skip along as though over the cobbled streets of the Latin Quarter, light and fluffy but with a subtly melancholic undertow. She lacks a breakthrough pop hit that could propel her forward like Feist, an undeniable musical ally, but Better Soon, in which her voice swoops and soars like a caged bird set free, hints that she’s well on the way.

(Reviewed in the VG Teltet)

Live Review: Maria Due (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Familjen (by:Larm News)

Johan T.Karlsson’s dancing is a sight to behold. He throws shapes like a monkey throws bananas. This may be what causes a busy crowd to get even busier on the floor within moments of his arrival: they gain confidence from knowing they look like John Travolta in comparison. The more likely reason, though, is that his assistant – on ‘technology’ duties – provides thirty minutes of pounding distorted techno beats that at times recall avant-garde German electronica like Schneider TM, and at other times none other than Scooter. It’s curiously effective, warmly received, and Karlsson earns extra kudos for singing in Skånsk. Whether the dancing is also a Southern Swedish tradition remains unclear.

(Reviewed in the VG Teltet)

Live Review: Familjen (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Tingsek (by:Larm News)

For a moment it looks like the promise of “an uplifting mix of soul, reggae, pop and Americana” is not as dreadful as it initially seemed: Sweden’s Tingsek kicks off proceedings with a fluid Donny Hathaway groove. But the pleasure is short lived: though Tingsek’s band are watertight and their harmonies razorsharp, they recall no one more than Terence Trent D’Arby and Jamiroquai. This is white funk at its pinnacle: clean and pubic hair-free. Technically they’re perfect, capable of working up a head of steam and immaculate in their presentation. But there’s more Americana in a Big Mac, more reggae in a Lilt commercial, and more soul in my socks. This is pop, pure and simple. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Fast cars and pastel sweaters are just a hit away.

Live Review: Tingsek (by:Larm News)

Live Review: The Kooks (by:Larm News)

It’s not clear why The Kooks are here, seeing as ByLarm is a celebration of all things Scandinavian and these two Brighton boys are as English as bad traffic. The reason is of little interest to the audience: they greet this acoustic appearance like The Second Coming. It’s hard to understand: perhaps Luke Pritchard’s scarf endears him to the locals. It certainly can’t be guitarist Hugh Harris’ bohemian thesp clothes, nor the joss-stick student bedsit vibes of anemic sub-La’s tunes that even The Proclaimers might dismiss (though there’s a Kinks-ish twist to songs like Mr Maker). So it must be, as my companion points out, that Norwegian blondes find them sweet. And they are cute: their naivety is charming, they grin like geeky kids who just got kissed by Ellen Page, and when they invite people to clap along their pleasure at the sight is sincere. I must be old: I thought the music mattered.

(Reviewed in the VG Teltet)

Live Review: The Kooks (by:Larm News)

Live Review: All That And A Bag Of Chips (by:Larm News)

Doomed by their name to be considered a comedy band, ATAABOC are actually far too well rehearsed to be a joke and far too intelligent to be bad. Led by a singer who looks like Billy Corgan auditioning for the role of drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket, they dress all in white, their t-shirts helpfully adorned with their band roles, and their music is just as premeditated. They call it ‘cliché-rock’, and despite early suspicions that they are natural successors to The Darkness the soon leave parody behind and start making a strange kind of sense, instead adapting 80s American rock in much the same way as The Hives steal from 60s garage rock. That name should have been left buried with the potatoes, though.

(Reviewed live at Rockefeller)

Live Review: All That And A Bag Of Chips (by:Larm News)

Live Review: The Lionheart Brothers (by:Larm News)

BROTHERS IN ARMS

With radio support growing in the UK, Wyndham Wallace asks whether The Lionheart Brothers could be the next Norwegian band to seduce the NME-reading indie kids of Britain?

When people talk of The Lionheart Brothers they always mention Brian Wilson. This is no doubt due to the sunshine harmonies evident on their second album Dizzy Kiss, released by the always intriguing Racing Junior Records. Tonight, though, there’s no sign of Beach Boys influences. Instead the predominant vibe is of that particularly English and aptly (if comically) named genre: shoegazing.

SMOKE AND MIRRORS: In fact the only thing contradicting this accusation is that it must surely be impossible for anyone on stage to actually see their shoes. There is smoke on stage so thick that it’s unlikely anyone would notice if one of these alleged ‘Brothers’ took a walk backstage for a crafty cigarette. Not that he’d need any more smoke in his lungs. This stage needs to come with a health warning. And, given that this is Norway, an inevitably very heavy tax. But truly, the opening epic Bring it Down – anthemic or endless, depending upon your stance – barely allows a glimpse of the band. That’s assuming that there’s even a band up there. Really, it’s hard to tell.

As opening rock and roll gestures go, then, it’s far from original, but the gesture remains thoroughly effective at setting up a suitable ambience for the band’s swirling noise. The Lionheart Brothers are clearly well versed in that early 90s scene where losing yourself in so-called ‘Cathedrals Of Sound’ was all the rage. They’re no doubt well versed in the early work of Ride and Chapterhouse, and one suspects they’ve researched their roots enough to include Drop Nineteens and Medicine in their homework too.

NEESH MARKET: What they sound most like, however, is a more easily accessible version of their fellow countrymen Serena Maneesh. Given that both Marcus Forsgren and Morten Øby – the two most likely to fall off the front of the stage thanks to the thick smog up there – have played with The Neesh (as they will henceforth be known if there’s any justice in the world) it’s perhaps not surprising.

Indeed, when the smoke clears it’s fun to note that both of them look remarkably like they’ve also inherited The Neesh’s (see, it’s catching on) dress sense. Guitarist Øby actually looks like The Neesh’s (really, it just feels so natural now) vocalist Emil Nikolaisen’s younger brother. He sports a white muslin shirt and purple headband while throwing his guitar around exactly like he watched the same Hendrix videos growing up. Forsgren, meanwhile, provokes a question that is surely echoing around the International Delegate’s Lounge: is it a legal necessity to wear a scarf if you’re part of a rock band in Norway? Every single band in the VG Teltet tonight has one around their neck as though mother told them to wrap up warm before they went out. Even The Kooks pay do as they’re told and adopt the look.

INTERNATIONAL PLAYS, BOYS: The Brothers bring the noise to Oslo tonight, and though later songs – like the undeniably infectious Fifty Souls And A Disco Ball – lighten the tone considerably, there’s no mistaking that they mean business, man. They throw themselves into the show like ByLarm is their chance to impress the world, which maybe it is: certainly in the UK, where a shoegazing revival is in full bloom, they’re beginning to attract attention, and a trip to Austin for South By South West is only a few weeks away. The timing could be right: this is a band who have progressed immeasurably since their ByLarm performance in Trondheim last year and they certainly seem ready face the challenge.

The only false note that they strike is actually the climax of the show, where Øby melodramatically whirls his guitar around his head, stabs the stage with its neck and massages his amp with its strings. He performs these acts with such odd tenderness that it’s impossible to take seriously. This is a man who wants to rock but is not quite ready to sacrifice his guitar. It’s a disappointingly unbelievable gesture at the end of a show that, while never quite incredible, is still genuinely impressive. In fact it undermines the rest of the gig by making it all seem a little hollow, as though the smoke was merely a smokescreen for a lack of original ideas. That said, though, they deliver these ideas with conviction and passion, and with a few more record sales under their belt they’ll soon be able to smash all the guitars they desire…

Live Review: The Lionheart Brothers (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Benni Hemm Hemm (by:Larm News)

A CASE OF THE BENNS

It’s a cruel world, but these big sounds from a small island are still not quite enough to make this Icelandic band stand out, argues Wyndham Wallace.

It’s tough being an Icelandic band. Not only do you need to take on the world from a remote island at the top of the world, but you’re instantly liable to be compared to either (if you’re female) Bjork or (if you’re male) Sigur Ros. BHH suffer from the second: as soon as their xylophone starts to twinkle like stars the ethereal sounds of their cinematic compatriots are inescapable, But they do little to hide from such lazy assessments, immersing themselves in epic soundscapes and drawn out instrumental passages designed to make the hairs on the neck tingle but which offer little to grasp onto.

There’s undeniably something in the Icelandic water that leads bands to make music like this: the barren landscape celebrated in Sigur Ros’ recent Heima film would surely inspire anyone to create sounds that aim to soundtrack like the birth of the universe. With so few bands from their country achieving international acclaim, though, it’s important that they don’t end up pigeonholing themselves, and BHH need more than slightly fey vocals to set them apart. Lay Low, for instance, proved at ByLarm last year that it’s possible to sound fresh and new and avoid such pitfalls.

Having said that, their four piece brass section – including a trumpeter in what looks like Trevor Horn’s spectacles – is impressive, and they end with a flourish: a mariachi tinged number, then a choral finale and massive brass fanfare to close their set. It’s perhaps just a little too late, but it hints at the fact that if Benni Hemm Hemm pursue something that’s all their own then they stand a far great chance of stepping out from the shadows of their peers.

(Reviewed at DogA)

Live Review: Benni Hemm Hemm (by:Larm News)

Live Review: Truls & The Trees (by:Larm News)

TREES: THE LUCKY NUMBER

They may have started out as a side project for Lukestar’s Truls Hegger, but from small acorns great oaks grow. Wyndham Wallace salutes the birth of something special.

Nine people crowd the stage of the cavernous DogA, a cumbersome and unlikely crew far from unified in their appearance. These days so-called collectives are everywhere: Lambchop and Polyphonic Spree don’t seem such a novelty now we have Arcade Fire and Broken Social Scene, for instance. But the truth is that sometimes these massed ranks are excessive. Lambchop have now slimmed down to a six piece touring band and the contribution of a further three to six members is rarely missed on stage. Do Broken Social Scene really need five guitarists lined up in a row for any other reason than spectacle? Might Polyphonic Spree have been more successful if their tour support requirements hadn’t nearly brought their record label to its knees?

SOWING THE SEEDS: Such questions are redundant when faced by Truls and his eight ‘trees’. There s not one moment in their all too brief set when a member of the band seems superfluous. With fiddle, bouzouki, accordion and fiddle augmenting a more traditional band line-up every person plays a part, adding layers of texture and sophistication to a collection of beguiling and thoroughly joyful tunes.

They set out their stall early on, spacey sounds filling out a choral elegy that slowly develops into a droning hypnotic loop underpinned by thumping drums, erupting finally into a masterfully rocking climax. To paraphrase the great English comedian Eric Morecambe, they’re playing all the right notes but they’re playing them all in the wrong order. This is not to say that they’re a cacophonous mess, but that their songs twist and turn in unexpected and riveting ways. They’re structurally complex, but never contrived and thus easy to follow, with unlikely tempo and key changes as well as sudden endings that are as creative as the songs themselves.

PINING FOR MORE: All through this Truls Hegger’s extraordinary voice fills the room with a splendid childlike beauty. Employing a full bodied falsetto that leaves Thom Yorke’s looking emaciated, he manages to remain always on the right side of piercing, never at risk of shattering the nearby restaurant’s fancy plate glass windows. At times it’s even hard to tell who’s singing higher: him or his co-vocalist Helene. And their harmonies are inspired, simple but surprising. When he drops his falsetto towards the show’s end it highlights just what a significant feature it has become by leaving an empty space somewhere up in the room’s rafters.

He’s an unlikely frontman, it’s true: round faced and slightly portly, not exactly Billy Bunter, the hero of the early 20th century British Greyfriar’s stories, but hardly Johnny Depp. There’s a youthful charisma about him, though, much like the musically and physically similar Loney Dear, and his pleasure at what is happening around him on stage is infectious. In fact there’s a sense of camaraderie up there that is wonderfully and inspirationally uplifting, something that spreads throughout the crowd, plenty of whom break out dancing as the show continues.

IT MUST BE TRULS LOVE: The sense of community is further enhanced by the sheer exuberance of the tunes, though they’re prevented from being twee by the hint of sadness that can occasionally be detected in Truls’ voice. In fact that’s the most surprising thing about their show: despite the ecologically themed name, the photograph in their album of Truls dressed as a boyscout, the connotations of so many musicians on stage, the choice of instruments and – to be brutally frank – the rather more folksy sounds of their album – they are far from hippies. It would be easy to expect bearded freaks with a whiff of patchouli oil, somewhat in the vein of the permanently underrated Herman Due, but instead they come across like Belle & Sebastian with balls. Albeit balls that are being squeezed very hard indeed.

The fact that this is only their seventh show is remarkable, especially given the nonchalance with which they seemed to survive this baptism of fire in front of a packed audience, exiting the stage finally with applause that seemed unlikely to die out. Unwieldy they may be, but Truls and The Trees make life seem that little bit lighter.


(Reviewed live at DogA)

Live Review: Truls & The Trees (by:Larm News)

Feature: I Love by:Larm (by:Larm News)

Wyndham Wallace returns for his third bite at the ByLarm cherry…

Ah, ByLarm, you filthy hound! Every year you seduce me with the promise of hot new Scandinavian talent, music the likes of which I have never heard. Every year I put on my best new threads, pack my wallet with banknotes and let you embrace me like a lost lover. And every year you send me home with my new clothes tattered, my wallet thinner than Amy Winehouse’s arms and a suitcase weighed down with music that will take me weeks to explore.

Those nights we spent together will always haunt my dreams. How can I put Lay Low’s heartbreaking laments behind me? Why did you let Rockettothesky slip through my fingers after she’d whispered sweet nothings in my ear? How can I ever forget the way you made me laugh by sending Datarock on stage dressed as tracksuited members of The Monkees? Will things ever seem the same now that Serena Maneesh have massaged and beaten me, often at the same time? And what would my life have been like if I’d not known that Hanne Hukkelberg took a bicycle on stage with her?

I’ll always treasure the memories of those days we spent sliding through the streets of Tromso and Trondheim the last two years, cities for which we invented secret names. Do you remember how Tromso, with its sheet-iced streets, became “The City Where Everyone Walks Funny”, and Trondheim, with its three feet snowdrifts, became “Another City Where Everyone Walks Funny”? Picture us as we tripped from venue to venue, serenaded by strangers whose avant-garde electronica, country-tinged rock or gentle harmonies made the stars shine just that little brighter. Of course there were the darkened corners where hairy men grunted, bearded men roared and the honking of brass horns caused us to grip one another tightly. But even we, the softest and gentlest of souls, couldn’t deny the fire burning in their eyes.

You were so generous, too, sharing your friends with me in speed meetings, always offering me the opportunity to network whilst ensuring I had a simple exit strategy. You opened doors for me and you showed me new ways of looking at life. You introduced me to experiences I might never have even imagined.

And now, ByLarm, you bring me to Oslo. After two years in the Arctic wilderness we bite the big one together. Previously you took me husky sledging in the Tromso countryside. You rolled me in the snow beside an outdoor hot tub beneath the stars. You introduced me to the pleasures of the yoik – Adjagas’ tender melodies will stay with me ‘til I die. You swept me off my feet in the depths of an old Nazi U-Boat factory all dressed up in lights. You fed me reindeer stew, and fish so fresh its nerves were still twitching on the plate. And you poured Karsk – that brutal but unforgettable mixture of coffee and moonshine – down my throat until I found my inner Viking.

What can you possibly have for me here? What surprises lie in wait? Can we assume to find the same level of intimacy? Will we find our love threatened by the temptations of the big city, the evil and immoral lures of mainstream culture? Or will you once again entice me into some darkened room to reveal hidden treasures so far unrecognised by mankind? Will you nonchalantly leave me alone with someone whose talents leave me tingling? Will you tease me, surprise me and inspire me yet again?

ByLarm, this is why I love you. I never know what you will do next. You’re always one step ahead, wherever you are. I love you, I love your friends, I love your habits. I’d probably still love you if you put a Coca Cola logo on your chest, a MacDonalds baseball cap on your head, and called yourself North By North Pole (though I’d much rather you didn’t).

You had me at hei...

Feature: I Love by:Larm (by:Larm News)

Feature: Ungdomskulen (by:Larm News)

SCHOOL OF ROCK!

Imagine Sonic Youth, Frank Zappa, Black Sabbath, The Cure, Funkadelic and Can all on the same bill. If that sounds like a dream come true then imagine a band that sound like them all! Ungdomskulen are that band, says Wyndham Wallace.

One of the more enjoyable aspects of the Scandinavian music industry for a native English speaker is the magic of the band names. This year ByLarm offers a whole selection of unlikely handles that include Master Piece Of Cake, Alog Med Sheriffs Of Nothingness, Gamaltnymalt and our personal favourite, All That And A Bag Of Chips.

None of these, however, matches the finest name to have emerged from Norway in many years: Ungdomskulen. It takes a little practice to master, but once you’ve seen them you’re likely to want to use it regularly so practice hard. If you wish to appear especially smug, note the fact that the word is Norwegian for ‘middle school’.

It’s easy to turn one’s nose up at an act because their name isn’t to one’s tastes, but such decisions might have led to some terrible cultural injustices. Imagine a world without Arctic Monkeys, …And you Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead and Aha. (Admittedly we’d have been saved from Kajagoogoo and Mr Mister, so this is not a hard and fast rule, but it’s one worth bearing in mind.) Even Ever Records, the label that the Bergen three piece band eventually signed to, suggested they might want to consider an alternative name. But Ungdomskulen simply pointed out that Royksopp had travelled fairly well. The label backed down. The band had a point.

And here’s why: Ungdomskulen, like their music, is a name that initially appears complex but is, in fact, highly memorable. Once you’ve got the hang of it you’ll never forget it. And following months of global touring, the band’s razor-sharp live show – complete with monster riffs, cowbell solos, stomach-crushing bass and, inevitably, lead singer Kristian Stockhaus’ unique sense of humour – has never been tighter, a point they’ll soon make across the UK when they open for The Young Knives before an appearance at South by South West in Austin.

In many ways Ungdomskulen are the only band you’ll ever need to see: they provide links to pretty much every form of known music. Slap on their debut album Cry-Baby and you’ll see what we mean. Somehow, within its hefty sixty minutes, it combines influences that range from noise to disco, from pop to prog, from metal to Mahler, from avant-garde to post-rock. The greatest challenge facing any audience is simply whether to dance or mosh. The usual solution is to combine the two.

Ungdomskulen played ByLarm once before, in Stavanger in 2005. At that stage they were in the process of releasing the series of three 7” singles that led to their deal. Their return to ByLarm follows the acclaimed release of Cry-Baby: “Ungdomskulen have produced the kind of record that leaves everything else floored in its wake” gushed Rocksound (UK). Don’t be surprised if the band turn out to be this year’s breakthrough act…

QUICKFIRE Q&A WITH UNGDOMSKULEN VOCALIST/GUITARIST KRISTIAN STOCKHAUS

How does it feel to be playing ByLarm and what does it mean to you as a band?

It feels like being touched by god in all the right places. As a band it means we get to play for everyone in the biz at the same time.

Do these kinds of events play a useful role in a band's career?

Yes, they are the backbone of every band’s eXistenZ. Take ‘em away and everything falls apart.

You're playing South By South West next month. How does that feel?

Really goddamn exciting!

How are things going with the record?

Very well, thank you. It’s a slow but consistent spread all over the world, like a sneeze in a public library filmed in slow motion.

Have you been touring heavily?

Yes, we’ve been touring a lot. We love touring so we hope that we can continue to do so for a long, long time. We’ve been uptown, downtown and round and round and round.

How would you describe your music?

I would describe it as a swordfight between friends.

What can people expect from an Ungdomskulen album?

A smorgåsbord of riffs, beats and jams from the top shelf of your local pita-place.

What can people expect from an an Ungdomskulen show?

The opposite.

What do you think of the Scandinavian music scene at the moment?

I think of it as a seed: it needs water to grow.

Any bands we should be looking out for?

Je Suis Animal: they rock!

Any message for ByLarm?

Where are our crabcakes?

UNGDOMSKULEN AND THE ART OF KISSING

You’ll need to appear hip as you spread the gospel of Ungdomskulen, so pay attention and say after me...

Ooong: Long ‘O’ - let the ‘N’ slide in underneath like a tongue between your lover’s lips.

Dom: Short ‘O’ - get this bit out of the way fast like it’s just a tease.

Skoool: Long “O” once again - let the sound linger like the lips of your lover as you finish kissing them.

Un: Short ‘U’ - almost like a popping sound as your mouths draw back from one another.

Simple, eh? Your kissing may have improved too.

Feature: Ungdomskulen (by:Larm News)