Among the many fine Swedish authors I've read Bodil Malmsten stands out as one of the most important. This many people know. Bodil also has a blog(in Swedish), where she writes long and short things, sometimes fiction about a faimly of tejp, sometimes small sad observations of life, a life she used to live in France but now does in Sweden. She has humor, like when she linked to this article in The Guardian titled 'Ten rules for writing fiction'. Her only comment to this link, with numerous novels written? 'I've always wondered.'
The article lets authors give their advice on the writing process, and even though I am against rules in fiction writing there are some good things, like reading what you have read out loud or Magraret Atwood's suggestion of what to think about when writing on airplanes: 'Take a pencil to write with on aeroplanes. Pens leak. But if the pencil breaks, you can't sharpen it on the plane, because you can't take knives with you. Therefore: take two pencils.'
I finished a novel in Swedish this past week, and in the spur of the moment sent it out to some people who I trust. This was, according to Atawood a good plan as her number 8 rule is: 'You can never read your own book with the innocent anticipation that comes with that first delicious page of a new book, because you wrote the thing. You've been backstage. You've seen how the rabbits were smuggled into the hat. Therefore ask a reading friend or two to look at it before you give it to anyone in the publishing business. This friend should not be someone with whom you have a romantic relationship, unless you want to break up.'
Anyway, read the article, its funny and even though I do not agree with many things I always find it interesting when authors discuss the writing process.
A new Vincent Van Gogh painting, depicting a windmill in the Paris area of Montmartre, has been founds in the city of Zwolle in The Netherlands NRC International reports. Pretty big news and perhaps a bit of consolation for skater Sven Kramer's historic mistake yesterday which has the whole country in shock. Otherwise Airportline is looking forward to Inter - Chelsea tonight , Sweden - Slovakia tomorrow morning and then a bit of culture on Saturday when the sweet twee duo Slow Club come to Amsterdam for an intimate show in De Nieuwe Anita. And, today was the official release date for the new Shout Out Louds album. I will get back to this soon, as they are one of my favorite Swedish bands, but until I do, have a click on the video bellow and keep your French dictionaries close at hand
Do you remember that Belgian man who was paralyzed for 20 years and then suddenly could communicate again? Well, turns out that he can't communicate at all, he is just conscious (which I guess is a good thing). But I, who thought this story was amazing, it made me think of one of my favorite movies of all time The Diving Bell and The Butterfly (based on the true story of a French Elle editor who gets a stroke that leaves him paralyzed and goes on to write a book (as amazing as the movie) by blinking with one eye), feel cheated by this inaccurate information. In this story in NRC International a scientist claim that "It was too good to be true and we shouldn't have believed it". Don't like things that turn out out be too good to be true.
All of the stage names evaporate And it's just a blood flushed and heart-rushing rates Either to kick off too soon or stick around too late, to be far too dear or too cut-rate Hold my hand again Like at the lake
Hold that mirror, babe Up to my face Hear the whippoorwill Am I breathing still?
A Hollywood Babylon bike-athon for breakdancers all broken down in their beds Now intravenously fed From a bag hanging over their heads Can I put you down for some miles? What do you say? Cause don't you know, it's going to be a long, long way But if you've got the cash I'm ready to bust my ass
So, take this thin broken down circus clown reject and give her the name of a queen Don't I know her from the mezzanine? She didn't look like no princess to me But with the proper words Bestowed And with her morning shoot Her evening clothes Don't call her a prostitute Well, she ain't one of those Just call her a proper little statue Come unfroze
The Movie Dan In Real life is very influential in some of my writing. The music in this terrific Steve Carell movie comes from Norwegian pop crooner Sondre Lerche. I like this guy, and at times I become angry for never seeing him live although I've had my chances. Watching this clip from him playing at the Troubadour in Hollywood, when he is talking about he movies role in his career (somewhat ironically perhaps), shows some of that nice character. The song is a very sweet pop number about being in love and includes Lillian Samdal in the album version. In case you guys need a reminder, one week after Valentine's Day and all.
Reading Amos Oz'How to cure a fanatic' in bed. Page 44, 'make peace not love'. He says that love is too rare to create peace, that there is not enough of it for everyone. Love is not the opposite of war, neither is brotherhood, or generosity. No, the opposite of war is peace. He then goes on to quote Robert Frost 'good fences make good neighbors' and I am reminded of how much I love the unsentimental clarity and position that Amos Oz takes in his writing.
One of last year’s must under-rated album was Peter Bjorn and Johns Living Thing. Coming off the success of their breakthrough album Writer’s Block they made sure to alienate as many people as possible by throwing out the warm sound of that output and instead land in a colder, more detached and minimalistic landscape. On Living Thing the band steered away from easy to digest melodies of Writers Block favorites like Paris 2004 and Young Folks.
I struggled with that change at first but eventually grew to like their new sound as the songs started to settle, and even though there is a coldness creeping around, the band never forgot how to be blue eyed romantics (I Want You!), funny (Living Thing) and deliver of the most amazing pop anthems of 2009 (Nothing To Worry About). Peter Bjorn and John have always walked their own way and there is a lot to be said for that. In this video by Amsterdam Acoustics they turn It Don’t Move Me into a celebration of musical creativity aided by what must be one of the coolest pianos on the planet.
Below are two other noteworthy video from the people at Amsterdam Acoustics, one where one of my true artistic role models, Erlend Øye plays on an Amsterdam tram, displaying some of the cities stunning beauty when the weather is good (I forgot the weather could be good here!) and a beautifully toned down and melancholic version of Passion Pits normally over the top The Reeling. Thanks to Katharina and Antoinette for opening my eyes to these recordings.
A Singaporean friend of mine posted this video on someones Facebook wall. It was not my wall. But that is ok, it is still a great piece of video. A bunch of San Francisco musicians in a room singing a indie anthem. It feels very collective and cosy and nice. Those are generally seen as positive things, I've heard. In other news, my media blogging friend, and MW Communication founder has recommended airportline to an editor at a Swedish magazine by describing me as an 'international decadent rebel born in the 80s who loves indie music and movies like Me and you and everyone we know.' That does seem like a somewhat glorified description of myself, but hey, as Tracyanne Campbell in Camera Obscura sings: 'I need all the love I can get'.
Is it the quest for productivity that destroys creativity? The computer screen that blurs the emotional mind? Does the cheer notion of an office numb what should be a freely racing mind? Who is it that answers all those emails, write and publish the reports, and write those functional and straight sentences that you flood other peoples in boxes with?
I’m listening to Destroyers’ Bay of Pigs, a over 12-minutes long song that Stereogum labels as ‘ambient disco’. What sticks out not the stories or cleverly phrased ideas, it is the whole concept of creating this kind of music, so long and overbearing, so grand and epic that it feels like its been made in another dimension with no connection to this reality. Something that definitely could not be produced in an office environment. It takes too much time, it starts slow, with hazy waves of soft electronic whispers, and when Dan Bejar starts to sing he starts out explaining that, ‘Listen, I've been drinking, as our house lies in ruin. I don't know what I'm doing: alone, in the dark, at the park or at the pier, watching ships disappear in the rain.’
It is a song about letting your mind wander, letting it break free of reason. Bejar knows how to do this (and admittedly have had trouble writing songs not pushing and breaking the 10 minute mark throughout his career) and it does not feel like a surprise when he sings about a girl named Magnolia. The song shares the same feeling of understated longing as the movie with the same name, same kind of detachment from society and its productive wheels that keep on spinning. Illogical ramblings, or profound ideas? It matters little when Destroyer portrays a drifting motion to a world we never seem to get to. Will we ever get there?
I've been around flying and breaking things, and the snow and cold just won't leave Amsterdam, it refuses, it clings on the streets, covers the canals with ice, throws nails against our cheeks and paints our jackets with snow. And there is not much left to do than keep on moving, pull down our hats, put our scarfs on tighter and just face a reality that has no interest in giving us a helping hand. Airportline is past frustration, for now. Instead we make fun of the snow, fly over it, laugh at it, smile in the face its petty tries to put us down, to make us cave. 'Det är inte hur man har det, det är hur man tar det'. Put that in a Swedish/English translation program.
With connections to the regenerated London folk scene, or more than connections, they were Laura Marlins former band, Mumford and Sons released their debut album Sigh No More in 2009. With connections to Airportline favorites, and best Album of 2009 winners, Noah And The Whale, this orchestra brings another batch of excellent London based folk music. This special branch of folksters that have no problems with bluegrass, Irish folk tunes, pure storytelling and enjoy mixing it with a beautifully and earnest sounding modern folk that with great ease comes and fills the void that so many of us needed to fill after Fleet Foxes ordered beards on all popular musicians.
What comes out is earnest, and not seldom grand modern folk with a fantastically organic instrumentation. It is not surprising to learn that the producer also was behind the shifts when of the best albums of the 2000s, Arcade Fire’s 2004 magical and still unbelievably and impressive Funeral, was recorded. Sure, Mumford and Sons does not bring that kind of new tone as Arcade Fire did, or the same kind of daring drama and darkness of the latest Noah And The Whale output. But they do hit your heart in the same way as melodramatic British movies do, and if I were an atheist I would maybe even call this album a bit religious at times. Just listen to the pompous bluegrass soul chorus in Roll Away Your Stone or the thunderous chorus of standout The Cave (see above), a song that in its own would make me go and buy leather boots and move to the Amazons where I would listen to Bob Dylan and play some banjo.
Its not the new direction or the heroic risks that make Mumford and Sons such a terrific band, it’s the perfect touch they have on what works, like they made a country version of the surprisingly impressive 2009 Deportees album Under The Pavement The Beach, and even though they are not paving any new roads, Mumford and Sons know how to use the twists and turns on that familiar gravel road that so many folksters before them have walked down. They have undeniable potential and with some more bold reaches these guys can make something truly spectacular, the trumpet in Winter Winds tells me they already have. But then again, I was always weak for trumpets.
So, are these animals lamas or are they something else? The office cannot agree on an answer. It is a shame that my comment function is not really working but if anyone knows, make an attempt. It is not good for me to live in uncertainty regarding the name of this animal.
For more nice pictures like this one, go here to Lisa Milberg, cause that is where it is from.
I usually spend the first months of each year trying to catch up with the year before. Yesterday a friend of mine suggested Local Natives (A band for you Fleet Foxes fans out there, just played in Amsterdam without me realizing it) and for the past few days I've been deep down the melancholic songwriting of Cass McCombs, a traveling man who've lived everywhere in the US it seems, and now holds it down in Baltimore (where Beach House, who has created the best album this year so far, is also from). I like Cass McCombs for his dreaminess, his romantic shimmer and contained country influences. He is not doing something terribly unique, but there is something that moves me with this music, maybe it is the sounds of fleetingness, or moving, changing locations that is reflected in the music, and in me. This song reminds me of a music festival and makes me want to go to the US and drink beer from a plastic cup and stare into the sun.
I have few doubts regarding the brilliance of Quentin Tarantino, perhaps my generation’s most prolific film maker. From the beginning of his career he’s spread classics around him with an ease that is both intriguing, and at times, provoking. There are plenty of reasons to love this man, his movies do not only have intriguing plots, he is also a master of combining his movies with twisted music, something that in its own should place him among the modern masters of film making. In his latest movie, the Nazi slugging guerrilla fighting filled, Inglorious Basterds he ticks many of the boxes for a Tarantino classic.
One of my favourite aspects with the film-making of Tarantino is the characters in his movies. They are not only great on their own; they also interact with each other with an intensity that is remarkable considering all the loony elements he throws into his films. Few film makers can bring out so much suspense and bizarre moments as this man. Tarantino knows how to sequence the interactions between characters and pull them out so far that they physically hurt you; to create suspense between foes is something he’s done marvelously from the start, from the twisted monologues and discussions in between kills in Reservoir Dogs, through the post-killing bible quoting in Pulp Fiction, Tarantino has drawn out pre-murder suspense like no one else. He knows the anticipation of death is even more terrifying than death itself, not that anyone actually can verify that this is true.
In Inglorious Basterds he has never done this better, never done it with more intensity, never contrasted the characters with such suspense. From the brilliant opening scene it is a continuous trip through the twisted cruelty and humor that exist in every Tarantino movie. It is perfectly incorporated in the atmosphere and in the interactions between the characters. A master of writing contemporary dialog with pop cultural references, here he combines elite Nazis, farm boy Americans, and some Jews with a vengeance. It sounds like a field day for twistedness and Tarantino makes no one disappointed.
It is easy to see how this could have failed, I tell myself while the end credits roll down in front of me. Or maybe its not. I read that Tarantino waited 15 years to make this movie, that he has called it his master piece.
In the Airportline film book Pulp Fiction stand very close to my all time favourite movies. I am aware that this is a quite standard response for someone between 20 and 30. It is difficult for me to disagree with this but sometimes the masses are right I guess. Why is this relevant? Because for me, that is the only best Tarantino movie there is. My mind is filled with nostalgia that will never wash away, for me Pulp Fiction will always be the best, I’m defeated by my nostalgia.
But, for those of you not that are not emotionally and historically attached to his old classics, this could well be his best movie. It has beautiful filming, bizarre humor, glorious (if I may) bad guys, and the hilariously straight talking bad good guys. In Tarantino’s world no good man comes without some evil, and that evil has never been dressed better or served with such pleasing results as in this movie. Saying that Tarantion has done it again sounds a bit like a cliché, but not less true.
So you put together The Shins lead singer and principal songwriter James Mercer with Danger Mouse, perhaps most knows for being one half of Gnarls Barkley and for his surprisingly pleasant Grey Album, where he put together The Beatles White Album and Jay-Z's Black Album into his own little dreamy world. So yes, you put together these two, and what you get is Broken Bells who release their debut album in March. This is the first single from the album, a vintage sounding pop gem that works perfectly as a cure against the grey Amsterdam clouds this Friday.
I've been writing plenty lately, so if you have some patience you can soon look forward to:
1. A review of the new Beach House album Teen Dream
2. A review of Mumford And Sons album Sigh No More
3. A discussion of character interaction in Tarantino movies
4. A short short story titled 'The coffee that left the office'
Until then I bring you some color in this Feist (who will play a part in the upcoming Broken Social Scene album) video which all of you have seen but might have forgotten about.
Several times each day I get this message, from 'Mary', to one of the in-boxes I go through at work.
Hello my dear. Hey, want to marry a Russian beauty? I want you, my good man. Come to my profile - you'll get a surprise! You want what would you be good? Come to me.
Sometimes I wonder who came up with this, and how many people actually click on the link which is also provided in the email. How many people who secretly dream that Mary will be something so much more than another spam email in an inbox. Personally I mostly wonder about the second last sentence, what happened there, did someone put in a word to much or is it suppose to be a bit confusing and mysterious, just like Mary herself?
The main character, Alan Blair, in Jonathan Ames (creator of the fabulous TV-series Bored To Death) novel 'Wake Up, Sir!' on sexuality:
'The human sex drive is relentless, especially the homosexuall human sex drive. One finds it everywhere, it knows no dark corners - or, for that matter, dimly lit corners - where it cannot trespass. But it's not just homosexuality that is prevalent: old-fashioned heterosexuality is still the most popular form of sensuality between two people. Drive past any school yard - somebody is producing these children, though I understand that enrollments have been dropping. Homosexuality is perhaps then making headway in terms of overall subscription, while of course self-abuse remains the most popular form of sensuality overall, though not between two people, unless the two people are self-abusing in each other's company, which is often a happy compromise in both the homosexual and heterosexual communities.'
On the back cover someone from the Portland Oregonian (had to google that to make sure it actually was a real paper, it is) claimd that Ames is a edgier David Sedaris. I would agree and say that generally, that is a good thing.
