Monday, 12 April 2010 06:17

Norway: land of fjords, Northern Lights, oil reserves, a rock-solid currency—and disco.

Disco may have been born in the United States, but “nu-disco"—that ‘00s phenomenon that mixes up various styles of boogie, Italo, house, and Krautrock—has been largely, if not exclusively, a Norwegian phenomenon. For having a population of less than five million people, Norway has had a disproportionate impact on the nu-disco scene, turning out talents like Todd Terje, Rune Lindbaek, Kango’s Stein Massiv, Bjorn Torske, Mental Overdrive, Blackbelt Anderson, Diskjokke, Ytre Rymden Dansskola, and, at the very center of it all, Hans-Peter Lindstrom and Prins Thomas.

In the English speaking world, Lindstrom has received the lion’s share of attention, but his frequent collaborator Prins Thomas has been just as influential, despite having released a relatively slim number of EPs since he began producing in 2005. He’s also released two mix CDs (’Prins Thomas Presents Cosmo Galactic Prism’ and ‘Live at Robert Johnson’) and dozens of remixes (for everyone from Doves to Freeland to Junior Boys), while his labels Full Pupp and Internasjonal have become two of the most dependable (and dependably experimental) labels in leftfield dance music.

 

He’s done so much, in fact, that it’s hard to believe that his new, self-titled longplayer is actually his first solo album. Nevertheless—and despite the fact that Thomas, an almost comically self-effacing character, insists on downplaying his musical talents—it’s a wildly ambitious record, a sprawling assemblage of styles and ideas that’s as wooly as a vintage Pendleton blanket.

Some might not even call it disco, in fact. Its meandering jams and lysergic atmospheres have more in common with Krautrock and progressive rock, but it’s all threaded with an unmistakable pulse borrowed from the black American dance music of the ‘70s and ‘80s, and filtered through the motorik circuits of German psychedelia. It’s music that combines wide horizons—a record you could imagine soundtracking a coastal road-trip—with the comforts of home. We pulled our armchair up under the glitter ball to learn more about this cheerfully self-effacing disco infiltrator.

Did you play everything yourself on the album?

I played everything except where it’s noted on the CD. I got Lindstrom and [Todd] Terje to do a couple of things that I couldn’t do myself. I can play basic stuff, but even on keyboards, it’s usually one note at a time. If I want something more than that, I have to ask one of my friends.

But you studied cello as a kid, and you’re self-taught on a number of instruments, right?

I didn’t really study. From when I was eight or nine, for a few years, I went to public music school. But I didn’t really learn sh*t, except that I had my homework, which I never did, learning certain pieces of music by reading notes. I played with my fingers, listening to music that I liked at home and picking it out by ear, and learning to play them like I would with a stand-up bass. So I didn’t really learn the basics that you should learn, like notes and scales and stuff, but I realized I had much more fun working things out myself. When I speak with people who have actually studied music, they say, “You’re way ahead of me.” But obviously it’s the opposite--I would like to learn to play some proper chords. I guess I would consider myself lucky.

‘Attiatte’

 

But you’re also not like some unschooled producers, who are merely composing with little bricks on the screen, right? You’re in the studio, banging on things, playing instruments.

Yes, but it could have gone the opposite way. I have periods where I’m more interested in just working with machines. It all depends a little bit on what kind of music is coming out. When there’s already so much new stuff coming out, naturally my head tends to get inspired by older stuff. Making music for me, it’s still just baby steps. I think I’m still learning, and working out what I’m actually doing. It’s all a bit backwards, because at the moment I’m working with one mic, no compression, a very stupid way of making music. Especially considering people still tend to lump me into the nu-disco section. But to me this is more interesting, at least at the moment.

Was it important for you to treat this album differently than you would a single or an EP?

Well, the next single I’m doing is not even on the album. I’m definitely considering it two different kinds of things. For me, the album is a snapshot of where I am right now, musically. These are my skills at the moment, and hopefully I’m getting better. Basically, it’s a long hour of music that, at least for me, keeps me happy. That’s kind of the aim for me, always to make something that I could listen to myself and say, “This is cool!” For the moment, I’m still happy with this album. I think that’s quite good, considering how many times I’ve listened to it while working on it.

But the singles are a completely different matter. I still use a lot of the same production techniques—I’m not even sure I could call them techniques, but I whack them together the same way. But they’re simpler, in a way, and for completely different situations.

Formally, this seems like more of a “rock” album than a “dance” album.

Yeah, definitely, if you play it to someone coming from electronic music, I would say so. But if you play it for people who only listen to rock music, they would consider it an electronic album. No matter how the album sounds, this record is going to be nominated for a Norwegian Grammy for the electronic genre. Though I would say it’s probably less electronic than many of the Norwegian rock records coming out here.

‘Slangemusikk’

 

Maybe it’s different for me because I know how these tracks are put together. I might start with the idea of doing something really electronic--like ‘Slangemusikk’, for me that started out more as a techno thing, but beatless. Maybe it’s just silly, giving myself all these restrictions, but at the moment I’m really working like Dogme, with some set ideas. Otherwise, it would be very easy for me to get lost in all the possibilities, all the software you can use. On the album, there’s actually only one or two synths. I could have used soft-synths and lost a lot on the way; instead I’m utilizing this one keyboard for all it’s worth.

I’m trying to give myself some restrictions. Hopefully I’ll get better at playing. I have to teach myself how to play the drums better, and get better at playing, instead of just playing a couple of hits and then sampling myself.

“I don’t really care that much about having the newest tracks. I think there’s something about having your own selection, and not just a copy of what somebody else is doing.”

On this album, there’s some tracks with live drums the whole track through, and miked with just one mic. Maybe the sound quality isn’t all that, but still, to me, there’s something with these restrictions that makes the whole sound gel together than if I’d used all the modern technology. It’s so easy to get lost and sit and work on tiny details.

Some of the critiques that I read said that the songs were too long, or it’s too jazzy, but that’s what it is! I can’t really say anything against that; this is a document of me trying to come up with something. It’s a snapshot. Of course that’s going to be long-winded jams!

‘Orkenvandring’

 

If you play drums for 15 minutes on a very loose idea, then the drums won’t necessarily sound, at the end, as they did at the beginning. And to me that adds a lot to the dynamic of the track. In some tracks I’ve changed the whole setup of the track, like gone from synth bass to electric bass, and acoustic guitars to electric guitars, just in the bar. Just to try out different ideas. It’s not as if they’re good ones, but I’m entertaining myself! And hopefully some other people are entertained too.

You call them long-winded jams; I like the fact that every track feels like a journey. You’re starting in one place and ending somewhere else…

And some of them just stand there on the spot!

I take it that Krautrock was a big influence on you.

Yeah, definitely. That’s probably the most obvious influence—that’s where ‘Sauerkraut’ comes in. [laughs]

‘Sauerkraut’

 

I wear my inspirations on my sleeve. I’m definitely influenced by some of it, but it’s not like I’m trying to replicate something. There’s enough people trying to replicate the already-popular sounds. It’s very typical now with technology and sampling, you can sound like your heroes very easily. One thing I have in common with a lot of older, ‘60s and ‘70s experimental rock is basically the recording technique. So today, a track that might sound quite different musically will still have the same sort of sound as most electronic tracks these days. Same f**king track. So this is me doing Kraut. [laughs] I hope there’s more to it, though! After recording it and then going back through my records, there’s definitely some Michael Rother inspirations in there, the guitar player from Neu!. Less obvious, maybe, is Pat Metheny.

I don’t hear it as imitating things, it’s more of a vibe. There’s something really nostalgic about it all, like a song you’ve known all your life. I was curious what role nostalgia played for you.

Funnily enough, that started out as a remix of a house and techno track. I won’t say which other track on the album came out of the same situation, but a couple tracks started out as remixes [for other people], and I decided to keep them to myself, or the person I remixed it for said, “Well, can you try something different?”

To me, it doesn’t really matter. Some of the remixes I’ve done, you start with a couple of sounds from the original and in the end you actually make a track 100% yourself, you don’t keep anything. Sometimes, especially if somebody asks me to do a remix of a basic club track or something, then I’d rather go that way and do something completely different.

I read you saying that you’re pretty faithful as a remixer, that you don’t like to just take the vocal and drop it over a new beat.

But sometimes, I’m making a track that you could play alongside the original, to make it sound different—it’s based on the same scales but done in a completely different way. Something that always inspired me when I’m DJing is to mix different kinds of things, not trying to make it sound like one seamless blend of tracks, but instead kind of squeeze them together, even if they’re from different times and genres.

As a DJ, how do you do that, when you’re playing things that weren’t designed to be beatmatched? Are you just blending at the end? Are you a very technical DJ?

 

I would say, I’m actually working, you know? [laughs] I grew up playing on turntables without pitch controls, belt-driven turntables. You had to work, really push the records and keep them steady. It definitely means knowing the tracks you’re playing. I very seldom go record buying, when I come to a new city, and play those records that night. I really want to know how the tracks work, hear them at least a couple times in their entirety, before I unleash them on people. I don’t really care that much about having the newest tracks. I think there’s something about having your own selection, and not just a copy of what somebody else is doing. Whether it’s from last week or the last two years, or from 30 years ago, as long as it works, or as long as you can make it work, that’s what’s important for me.

I think I’m a pretty good technical mixer, but I’m not too worried about fucking up mixes. For me it’s important to actually show that I’m a person with a taste in music, and take risks now and then. Not just doing the same old, over and over. It’s usually a lot more fun when you can play old R&S stuff or the Edgar Broughton band, or something really out there, but still with energy, and have people being surprised and dancing, not just this calculated, counting bars… Do I sound very old? [laughs]

Regarding ‘Wendy Not Walter’, was Wendy Carlos a big influence for you?

‘Wendy Not Walter’

 

[pauses] No. [breaks into laughter] No, not really. I’ve been listening to the ‘Sonic Seasonings’ album quite a lot, which is basically just sound effects. I don’t know if you know the album, it’s a double vinyl, with one side representing each season. It’s quite nice, in a more Gavin Bryars or Terry Riley kind of way—just put a record on and keep it playing while you’re doing something else, and the music kind of sneaks in a different way than when you’re actively listening.

Is that you singing on ‘Nattonsket’ and ‘Attiatte’?

‘Nattonsket’

 

There’s a couple more tracks where there’s vocals, but it’s much more hidden. But I’m still singing in the universal language, called “humming”. [laughs] I don’t really have anything smart to say, so that’s why I’m not writing lyrics yet.

I respect that, there’s nothing I hate more than stupid lyrics!

To say it in a very cheesy way, I’m very happy letting my fingers doing the talking. But obviously that’s said with a little bit of humor, because I don’t consider myself like a proper musician who can actually play. I’m a very basic player. I find it very funny when people use the word “noodly” [with me]. I’m like, have you ever heard a musician play a note before? Because this is not noodly!

When I interviewed Lindstrom recently, he seemed to thrive on the contrast between solo production and collaborations. Having worked so much with him, do you have a preference for working alone or with other people?

 

I always prefer the one that I’m doing right now. Right now I’m very happy working on my own, but we’re still sitting next door to each other in the studio. Just today, I sent a track to him that he played some clavinets on, and he sent a couple multi-tracks over to me so I could help him arrange it. So we’re always working together on something, but it’s more like, scratching each other’s backs.

Right now I’m working on too much stuff to even think about doing yet another album with Lindstrom. But I guess we’re going to do some stuff. There are some remixes in the pipeline, and we’ve got a couple of ideas for different fictitious bands. We usually do all the stuff we say we will, but we’ve got some kind of buffer for just talking too.

I didn’t realize until reading the RA interview that you used to run Tamburin. I still play that Kalle, Magnus & Daniel record, ‘Sang for Chun Li’, that’s an amazing record!

Cool! Congratulations, you’re one of the 20 people that bought it! [laughs] Unless, maybe you got it for free?

I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I did…

Well, that’s Magnus International, Blackbelt Anderson and a third guy, before they split up and became three different projects. Tamburin was me trying to run a record label, and learning how you don’t run a record label. And now I’m doing my best, trying to use what I learned then to actually run a record label. Or pretend that I’m running one, but actually let Word and Sound do everything.

How are things going with Full Pupp?

It’s going well! We never had so much stuff in the pipeline ready to be unleashed, and never had so many album plans. We’re working as if we actually still sold records. [laughs] But it helps not having any employees. I don’t make any money from the label. What I earn from it, I put straight back into the label. That’s the way I think you have to run a record label, if you want it to grow.

It’s hard to say anything about it, really. Now it’s just this living, organic kind of thing, the whole label. Because there’s so many people I’ve been working with for a long time, and there’s so many people involved that it’s kind of out of my hands, in a way. With Full Pupp, it’s all the Norwegian guys. It’s funny because some people haven’t realized that yet that it’s actually only Norwegian stuff on Full Pupp, and then all the other stuff on Internasjonal.

You know, I’d never noticed that either.

Aha! But that was a really good restriction—once again, “restriction” is the key word—which made me realize, instead of always searching for that specific track you’re dreaming of, or chasing the new, hot producer, you make some kind of commitment to the guys you work with. There is a limited supply of Norwegian producers, but it’s more than enough just focusing on a few key artists, and once in a while getting some fresh blood. Or even some old Norwegian legends. But it’s easy for me to work this way. You know, you need some time to build an artist, you need some time to get the music out there. So when I worked with Blackbelt Anderson on his second album, we didn’t make much on the first one, but you can dream of making a little bit more with the second one, and then when the third one comes, then hopefully you’ll make a little bit more. I think it’s a good way to work--I let the producers evolve naturally, and I try not to interfere too much with what they’re making.

The record on Full Pupp that really surprised me last year was Mental Overdrive’s ‘Skanken’. It wasn’t what I expected from him or from Full Pupp.

Some people don’t even notice when we do something different. They still say, “Oh, nu-disco!” But I thought it was a great record, and I was very happy putting it out, but sadly, maybe the market for this kind of music is already taken by somebody else. We’ll see, there’s more stuff being planned from Mental Overdrive, and hopefully a part two of ‘Skanken’ and well.

What’s the vision behind Internasjonal?

There really isn’t one. I’m trying not to get stuck in a certain genre. You could say, in a way, with all the Norwegian stuff on Full Pupp, that even if we haven’t tried to stick to a certain style of music, it’s still fairly disco-ey, and a little Norwegian in identity. But the idea behind Internasjonal is just to put out stuff that I like and not care too much about following up one record with another. It’s more about breaking the rules from time to time--put out a nice slow record, put out a nice fast record. Once again, hopefully, put a spotlight on some younger, talented people. Or at least, if not talented, that make some entertaining music! Either for your ears or your feet.

It’s more important to me that people are a bit surprised every time they hear a new one, than whether they actually buy it.

‘Uggebugg’

 

Why do you think Norway has had such a strong disco scene?

I can only speak for myself. Personally, when I started DJing in clubs in the mid ‘90s, when I actually was old enough to play in proper nightclubs, I hadn’t been DJing for a long time, except doing bar gigs during the week in my old hometown. The music I was playing was more for entertaining weeknight drunks than for dancing. So I had gone more back to my roots again: jazz, pop, rock, whatever—music played by musicians. Then, when I started playing out in clubs again, I found my old house and electro records from the early and mid ‘80s, and got some new stuff. I kind of found out really quickly that I didn’t find it inspiring to play one type of sound all night, or only electronic music. One thing that’s always gotten me enthusiastic is mixing up old and new stuff. For me, the most interesting is when you have something very repetitive and monotone together with something that has got more of an organic, live pulse. So instead of just buying new stuff, I started looking backwards, trying to find old stuff that could be played as new stuff, and certainly disco was the place to go, when it comes to dance music.

It’s always been a small scene here, and a lot of the people who DJ now, like Rune Lindbaek, DJ Strangefruit, me, we’ve been playing since the mid ‘80s, and playing some of the stuff that was the end of disco, in a way, or the start of house music, when house music had more errors. Syn-drums played by hand. You know, these Arthur Baker remixes, with live drums and drum machines which they try to synch up with them… For me it’s more that kind of disco…

It’s disco more as an idea than as a sound.

I mean, you could say, “What’s the deal with Africa and dance music?” For me, disco is as much old Kevin Saunderson stuff as it is some of the most monotone and groovy Krautrock stuff. If you listen to some of the most primitive, tribal disco stuff, like Walter Gibbons or some of the simplest Ron Hardy edits, it has the same kind of hypnotic feeling—with some human errors, which is to me what matters.

Source: Beatportal