free indie on a summer evening

i happened to walk past mosebacke tonight and got a free live version of lykke li doing “i’m good, i’m gone”. with a perfect view of stockholm and the sun setting somewhere behind city hall.

pure chance anyone?



(if you like it, check out the cool acoustic version here. it even has robyn it it)

sofia karlsson

two days ago, an old friend of mine quite forcefully introduced me to a swedish folk musician, named sofia karlsson. and, as is turns out, for a good reason.

sofia does real music, sprung from something different than commercial interests. her songs seem to hold a close connection to… something, that is certainly invisible to the eye, but yet present. i can’t touch it, but i feel it. there’s an honesty trickling from how the instruments are handled. something pure, and simple. and maybe that’s what it is, that something, that moves me.

or perhaps it’s just the folk touched harmonies, but the something stirs deep within my chest, and it feels like home. suddenly i wish my suburban apartment was a timber cottage painted red with white corners. somewhere far up north, where the pine trees are old and the sun never sets over the baltic sea. i’d sit there on a porch, and breathe. and sofia would spela för livet (play for life).



(btw, this clip is a live recording. see what i mean? real music).

and there he was

several people and incidents have been trying to introduce a specific man into my life. with fantastic reasoning behind them. and tons of support. so, i know about him. what he does, where he’s from, how much better my life would be with him in it.

even so, it’s not until i’m sipping free drinks at the restaurant across the street from work that the time has come. i can see it in my head as if the producer of my life was working it live – truman show style.

“this is it guys! second beer, she’s susceptible, let’s put some effort into it this time”

the last guest just left the restaurant and the owner grabs the ipod, longing to listen to his music rather than the stuff he has to use for the dining room.

“aaaand, cue mr johnson”

the music starts. guitar. a man’s voice. a soothing rhythm. i sip my beer, not really thinking, the song is intertwining itself into my mood seamlessly, gracefully leaving an almost subconscious mental note of approval.

“wait for it… wait for it... “ (holding his breath)
“yes! i think we got her! ok… i need “drink the water”. now. go!”

after the second song that mental note has grown to a times square billboard in my mind, and my question is answered with a “jack johnson”. i swear to god that anyone close enough would have heard my brain make that satisfying snapping sound of the last piece of the puzzle falling into place.

“that’s a wrap boys, we nailed it.”

so, now i’m obsessed. possessed. distressed, by the way his songs are obliterating my last.fm statistics. and that’s not even including the times i’ve been on my other laptop, just youtubing him.

yeah, i have no idea what the fuck took me so long.

kent live at zinkensdamm, june 08

some experiences are so good that trying to explain them becomes frustrating.
it’s as if words lessens them.

so, about kent live at zinkensdamm:

i now have a crush on jocke berg. and the light guy.
(more photos here)