rehearsing again

Yesterday I met up with Mange and Anna to play some music. Mankan from the old band was also invited and together we managed to play through 13 songs a couple of times. It was excellent! I loved the feeling of playing and singing with a band! The songs worked really well, too. I know they're not hits by any means, but they worked well and they were fun to play! Another dimension was definately added when we played them live like that!

Next time we play I'll try to bring my computer so I can record what they sound like - no good recordings, of course, just set up the one microphone in the middle of the room and see what happens. All I got from this time was a few clips recorded with my phone. There's almost nothing showing (besides my back) and the sound is awful, but I wanted something to remember that first rehearsal by.

Here's a clip from that. The song doesn't even have a name yet.

school semester now on sale - one week off

It's Monday but I don't have to go to work. Well, I do, kind of, because I'm going there tomorrow to play some music and I will want to bring a guitar from home and the case for it is at work. My idea is to swing by there today in the afternoon. But my original point is that I don't have to go to work.

I still have things to do, though. I have to make an appointment to see a dentist. Finally. It's been some years. Maybe eight. I know. Me be stupid. I used to "justify" not going by saying I couldn't afford it. I guess I can now, though. Hmm... I'll call right after I'm done writing this.

I also have to give Marta a car. That's fine, because I have one that I can't use (due to lack of license). It's better if she owns it. Like SEK 400 per month of insurance costs better.

an interest taken

A little while ago, as Marta and I were putting Polly down for the night, she developed an interest in her old man. She wasn't at all keen on milk, or sleeping. She just wanted to look at her daddy... It wasn't the first time she was interested in me, but it was the first time she was ONLY interested in me. I can't tell you how happy it made me when she looked at me and smiled.

the trials of lesley trace

Since I stopped playing with Sonic Negroes I've been writing more songs. They're not SN material anyway, so it's no loss for the band. But I guess after being in a band I can't not be in one. I need that vent. This time, though, I need to be more in control of how often we rehearse and what our ambitions are.

So, ever so slowly, things have started coming together. I have made contact with Magnus Nordin, writer and former SN bass player and Anna Olsen, a friend from work. So far we've met a few times and played a bunch of my songs and one of Mange's.

We've been talking about what kind of band this should be. My vision is a more flexible band, where the songs don't have to sound the same all the time. What I mean is that we should be able to play with different set up, and not be so fixed in terms of instrumentation. For one gig we might be just three people with acoustic guitars and a bass and a tabourine, while some other time we might have a full drum kit and maybe some keys. I'd love that.

One issue that's grown increasingly urgent is what to call the band. It's as obvious as it is frustrating that all the good names seem to be taken. It's even gotten to the point where I sometimes play a game with myself: if I could have any band name -none were taken - which one would I choose. Well, which one would you choose?

min sårbarhet

walking in the fall

urgent message to the spanish speaking people of the world who keep adding me on msn

Dear Spanish speaking person,

Hi! Considering the number of people in the world and comparing that number to the amount of Spanish speaking people I actually know, chances are you and I don't know each other. I'm sure that's a crying shame and all, but I'm really not aching to get to know you. Really. So please, pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top -DON'T ADD ME ON MSN! And don't add me on facebook via Friend Finder either. Seriously, don't. It's fucking sad.

Why the fuck would you add someone you don't know? What do you hope to get out of it? A friend for life in another country? Or are you just spamming? And would someone please explain to me why you would, even for a second, assume that I speak Spanish too?

I'm European. To the best of my knowledge, only one country in Europe speaks Spanish, and not even that really. Spanish people, with the possible exception of Madridians never say they're Spanish if you ask them. Try it, you'll see. So who else speaks Spanish? Well, a huge chunk of Latin America, that's who. So maybe you're from there? Well, let's face it: since I have very little interest in growing drugs or bananas, military revolts, dictatorships, fucking up the rain forest or kidnapping tourists, we have very little in common and probably won't get along. So, once more: DON'T ADD ME ON MSN!

And then, yet again for clarity:

DON'T ADD ME ON MSN, POR FAVOR!




PS. The text above contains racist statements and unfair prejudice. It's not like me to be this big an ass, but I have had all the wrong buttons pushed for a few years now. For years, I've gotten at least one friend request a week. For about a week now, I've been getting about 5-6 a day. All strangers, all spanish speaking. Who do they think I am?

Let me also add that I have several Spanish speaking friends, whom I really like. This message is not for you guys. It's for every one Spanish speaking I don't know.

get off my conscience

I went out running the other night, as usual. I ran through Aspudden as I sometimes do, and I went passed this Vietnamese restaurant Marta and I ate at once this summer, on one of Pollington's early walks. It's called Saigon House. The food was prefectly alright. The thing is, every time I go by, it's empty. It's open, but no one's eating. Maybe I run by too late, I don't know. The thing is, seeing those empty tables and the lights on and the staff with nothing to do, I feel bad. I feel bad for them, and I worry about their business.

It's not just just that place, nor is it just restaurants. I hate going by small independent shops, like the ones on Södermalm. You know the ones that sell really modern stuff, or stuff that's old enough to be really modern again. They're almost always empty. And most of them look really empty too, like show rooms, with almost nothing for sale. Then I start thinking about how much their rent is and how much they have to pay the staff. I wonder about thuff like that. If they sell a lamp or something once every hour, the customer might have spent SEK 500 in there, but you have to deduct what the store paid for the lamp, the rent and salary and all other fixed expenses. How do they stay in business? Are they all mob connected? Probably not, right?

The Mecca of poor businesses is the place where I work -Hammarby sjöstad. There's a whole bunch of shops there, most of them catering to, or rather desperately trying to cater to the upper middle class people they know are around but never see. I go by these shops a lot, but I never, ever see people in there, let alone buying stuff. That makes me feel really sorry for them. Not sorry enough to buy anything, though. Do you have any idea what kind of prices they have?!

that tasted better going down

What a weekend! After Marta and Polly's long awaited return from Poland, we got to spend almost 24 hours at home together. Mind you, I was at work, but still. Then we left again. We just came back from a weekend trip to Helsinki.



I can't say I was eager to go. In fact, I had to be dragged to Helsinki, kicking and screaming. The dragging was done in that female, much more subtle style, though, so the kicking and screaming was mostly inside my head. Let me explain: first you're asked if you want to go. If you hesitate, the first attack to hit you is the guilt barrage. That'll knock you on your ass. To make it worse, they'll attack you from two fronts. What follows is the trick retreat: they pretend that it's ok if you don't come along. Only a very foolish man falls for this.



So what's left to do? Well, my strategy was stupid and useless: I kept complaining but went along. That way, they got their way and I got to spoil a lot of the fun.

The trip itself was actually enjoyable, though. Helsinki was nice and sunny. I bought a lot of books at a fabulous bookstore (Akademiska Bokhandeln) and had some fabulous fika at Fazer. In fact, I made the most of my Saturday, starting the day with taxfree M&Ms and finishing with some fine Swiss chocolate. As the boat left Helsinki last night, however, the winds that had started to blow cast an eerie shadow over our return voyage. And indeed: after I'd further doomed myself by having pasta for dinner* (see further details below if you're not sensitive) the rough seas provided me with temporary bulimia. I spent most of the long night cursing ships and trying not to think of all the sweets I'd consumed during the day.



A nice little result of the trip is that I got some key members of my traveling companions to join me in a chorus of "I'm never going by boat again -ever".



* An interesting and disgusting fact is that whenever I throw up, I've always had pasta. Don't get me wrong: I don't throw up when I've had pasta - but every time I throw up I've had pasta. See? The truly nasty detail is that once the actual bout of vomiting is over (for a while), I spit a few times, rinse my mouth and wash my face. Then I breathe in sharply through my nose to clear it and manage to dislodge, without fail, little bits of pasta once more in my mouth. I hate those little bits of pasta. Every damn time!