An Interview with Anders Bjorler

An interview with Anders Björler

December 4^th, 2013, I headed to Gothenberg, Sweden. I decided to take the train. It’s an easy form of travel in Sweden, relaxed, and easy to navigate. I woke up feeling a little under the weather,  and was a bit worried the travel wouldn’t do well for me. I’m a piss poor traveler. My weak immune system deals poorly with recycled air.  I slept most of the ride, read Game of Thrones the rest. My questions were already prepped, so it would be nothing more than brushing up once I got to the hotel.

The hotel is decidedly Swedish. The bed is small, with a mattress pad. The hotel is a bit off the main roads, tucked into apartment buildings. Still, it’s fairly nice, especially for the price. Worth the 500 meter walk from Central Station.

Before going to meet Anders, I brushed up on my metal. I listened to some At The Gates and The Haunted. I jotted down some specific lyrics I might be interested in asking about. Really, I already knew the gist—folk influences, social and political themes in the music, asking about the significance of the use of various calendars in his new album Antikythera.

It’s hard to distill nearly three hours of continuous conversation. I had decided to forgo recording the interview and had decided on a more narrative syle of write up instead of a transcript. Because, for me, this experience wasn’t about the exactitude of the answers, nor my memory.

We met at a Starbucks in Central Station. I was sipping an Americano to warm my hands. Sweden gets damn chilly when the sun sets, and it sets damnedly early.  Of course it was a Starbucks Americano, so it tasted terribly. I saw Anders through the door, he came in and we shook hands. Then the talking began.

He asked me about my project, what I do. I asked him about music he liked. The first music he mentioned was Prokofiev.  Then Shostacovich. Next Penderecki, specifically Symphony 3. Anders mentioned he loved the Russian aesthetic, so melancholy and dark. I talked about all the classical musicians that liked metal, admittedly for similar reasons, as well as the great playing.

Next Anders asked me if I was looking into folk music. I mentioned I was, and that I was interested in folk influences. As my guess and “preliminary research” showed, it is indeed an influence for some metal groups. The ones I thought of particularly (In Flames and At The Gates) it definitely was. Anders grandfather played violin and folk music was a part of his life. I’d heard as much in interviews, but it doesn’t mean it actually goes into the music.

But it’s definitely there. If you listen to his latest album you can hear it most clearly. The similar melodies, the melodic minor scales. You can also hear guys like Esbjorn Svensson, Prokofiev, and all his work in metal music. Anders told me that influences come from all over, from everything he hears, so he can’t pin down any while he’s working. There are major influences, like folk tunes and classical music that are apparent, and which he admits to listening to on a regular basis.

I asked about the title of his album, Antikythera and the relationship of the song titles. Most of the songs are based on different types of calendars; the Callipic Cycle, the Saros Cycle, and Lunar and Solar eclipse. There’s one titled “223” which is how many gears one device had. The connection to the music? It’s a title, nothing more. Anders told me he had watched a documentary on the Antikythera mechanism and thought it was really interesting. To keep all the songs tied together, he picked different names of calendars. The material itself wasn’t worked out with the title specifically in mind. It may be fun to see if there are some odd occurrences, moments when the amount of years in a cycle correspond to some musical moment. Is there something about the numbers 76, 18, and 54 subconsciously in the music? I highly doubt it, but some musical scholars will spend their time mapping it. I, for one, will take Anders at his word, and accept the music for what it is without dissecting subconscious compositional methods.

The music he worked out in a short time—the general form and ideas were put together in two weeks. I joked that before the Fulbright began, I never could have believed it possible to put together 40 minutes of music in a couple weeks, but when you have time. And time is what Anders has, devoting it to working on music, making documentaries, and having beers with a random American wanting to ask him questions.

We later talked about the general attitude toward folk music. Anders told me that most everyone hears the music at some point. It’s taught in schools, but then promptly forgotten. The general populous tends to like the latest pop from America…or slightly older than the latest. Folk is as niche in Sweden as most everyone else, but there’s at least a general awareness.

We talked a bit about folk music in America. How there’s folk music from later immigrants, music from Ireland, Sweden, Italy, and Poland. And how there are distinctly American folk, like spirituals, American hymns (I thought of shape note hymns and American prayer books), and even loosely jazz. But I told him how so much of that isn’t attached to the everyday culture of the “majority” of Americans, the white middle and upper class. That when they hear folk, it’s Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, the newer folk music. Even older collectors, like Charles Seeger or Alan Lomax aren’t as well known. It’s not that these people aren’t completely unknown, but compared to Sweden where if I bring up the Epistles of Fredman, songs by Carl Michael Bellman from the late 18^th century, it’s at least known. Of course it may help that there’s a Bellman beer which prints the epistles on the back. The beer itself isn't all that good, but the mass produced beers of Sweden aren't all that good...

And, of course, lyrics had to come up. With groups like Coven, with Jinx Dawson saying that she was a Satanist and meant the words. Then Black Sabbath and later the new wave of British metal and groups like Slayer where the lyrics were more about obliquely about social norms, fighting against perceived ills, and rebellion. There was a punk aspect to the lyrics. It was less about the paganism of Norway, though the imagery was always there.

Same with the Swedish metal scene. They wanted to speak, be heard, and protest…something. I asked about what they protested, and Anders talked about a combination of having the freedom to choose and being socialist. They didn’t want to system of ownership inherent in Capitalism, something which was spreading in Sweden at the time. And yet, they wanted the ability to choose their own path, something that the social system in Sweden somewhat prevents. Everyone should be equal in Sweden, share the wealth and opportunities. Some people, especially younger generations, seem to rail against this. They want the freedom, the opportunity. Metal music expresses this, in its abstract way. There’s often talk of fighting imperialism, being forced into horrible situations, and general melancholy and unhappiness. The longer I’m in Sweden, the more I understand…It’s not just the winters that can cause this issue (though they are cold and dark).

Of course, I contrasted this with life in America. What so many young Swedes see as opportunity in America is a false conception. We talked about the level of capitalism, quipped about how the current conservative Swedish government is still more left than the farthest left group in America.

What about all the “devil talk.” It’s just that, talk, symbolism for other things. Anders told me about how secular Sweden is. He group in a secular household, and didn’t care one way or another about religion. If there was a message regarding that in the lyrics, it was a message of “look at all the world is learning! Open your eyes and accept all that’s happening.” Less a condemnation, and more a “C’mon guys, the world is a big place.” He contrasted this to Norway, which seemed to be a more religious country. There was more open rebellion against Christendom then, but they were more driven by Paganism—as Varg Vikernes put it, “They (the Christians) desecrated our graves, our burial mounds, so its revenge.” It’s a long time to hold a grudge, but, for some, that can happen.

Metal has a link then with personal rebellion and expression. It’s a very personal form of expression, as most music is. It reminded me of punk music, but instead of straight forward speeches there is complicated symbolism. Instead of raucous cacophony there is intense virtuosity. The message can get more obscured, with the vocal styles and the poetry, but it is there…at least in The Haunted and At The Gates, and with some of the groups Anders is more familiar with.

The concert environments themselves seemed different though. I recounted for Anders my experience in a metal club in Stockholm with a trash band. Everyone was so happy. The people in the mosh pit were smiling. Crowd surfing was happening with laughing. After an encore, the bass play dove into the audience and was carried all the way to the merch table by the two largest men in the club. They dropped the bass play, everyone full of laughter and smiles. I compared this to  in America, when I’d go to a pop metal group, like Bullet for My Valentine, and see a mosh pit where people came out bloody. When going to OzzFest (which Anders played in 2005 with The Haunted) and seeing the outfield destroyed at then Deer Creek Music Center. He told me he saw the same thing happen when he went on tour with The Haunted. I asked about if he saw a difference in the scenes between American, Sweden, and Norway. He said it seemed more laid back in Sweden.

And, of course, it came to the Norwegian Black Metal guys…or rather, guy. Anders described the whole thing as more of a fluke, a few guys that took things way too far. Of course everything was really tied to one band, Mayhem, and really around one iconic figure, Varg Vikernes. Is it so much of the negative hype really tied to this one group? Of course there are tales of Ozzy Osbourn and the bat, the displays put on by GWAR, and other extreme metal bands, but it seems the death metal scene in Sweden wasn’t into that. Instead, they let their music do the talking, with political lyrics.

We went back to talking about folk music. Since I started drafting this, Anders has been so kind as to send me links to tons of Swedish folk music, both traditional and new takes. I’ve listened to a few as I type, but I’ll have to give it a more concerted listening. I can hear the influence of the melodies, the sad melancholic tunes that Anders described. The simple melodies, the layering of voices; now that I’m becoming aware of the music, the sounds are becoming more identifiable. It’s interesting how this heritage can become part of the culture.

This was a meeting of two musicians, both passionate about what they do. We connected over beer (I had one too many), spoke of many things, and I learned more about Swedish culture and the connections to death metal in three hours than I had from watching and reading all the interviews online, and going to the concerts. And what I learned that was most important?

That metal, like all music, is a deeply personal way of communication. Even composers who are modernists, use stochastics, chance, or improvisation, or ignore all “programmatic” ideas of their pieces are still trying to communicate something they find deep about their existence. This may be the Duvel talking, but I found it invigorating. You never know what will happen when you meet a stranger for beer. This time I walked away a wiser and better man.

Thank you Anders Björler for taking the time to meet with me.

Also, a special thanks to Johan Lundgren. He sent out the email to Anders and got this rolling. Also, his pickups are more than a little amazing and famous. If you’ve heard Meshuggah, you’ve heard his pickups. http://www.lundgren.se/

And a special thanks to Björn Juhl, who put me in contact with Johan. His pedals are also well known, under the moniker of BJFe designs. Check out some here http://www.bearfootfx.com/

And these aren’t ads, they really are thank yous! Moving across the Atlantic, setting myself up in Stockholm, and getting things rolling has been a crazy enterprise! Without Björn Juhl and Johan Lundgren, this wouldn’t have happened.

Metal or Classical Music concert?

***Note--everything below is from limited anecdotal evidence from my time in Sweden so far.

I'm still learning a lot about the local metal scene here in Stockholm, but I'm finding trends very quickly. Last night I went to a different club, Rocks, to catch Obscyria, Nominon, and Protector. Three bands, three different starting decades, three bands that had a lot in common...

with classical music.

I wonder how many scoffed when I said that? There have been studies done showing links in mentality. There are discussions on internet forums with people tossing out theories as to why there's a link. There are programs jumping up in metal studies, a conference dedicated to metal music, and some nice journalism with interviews comparing backgrounds of musicians from both walks of life.

But this isn't new information. I came to Stockholm looking for these influences, as well as folk, myths, and political statements.

What I'm finding is different, but equally fascinating.

When I showed up for my first show at Püssy A Go Go, I wasn't sure what to expect. Fellow-Fulbrighter Tom Ward is an avid metal fan, and having already been in town the year new the scene knew where to go. Can't even begin to thank Tom enough for pointing me to the right clubs. We met for that first concert, and he gave me some info: expect everyone to be pretty respectful; the moshpit is up front, but it's more fun than insane; for how hardcore the music is, it's laid back.

I wasn't sure what to expect. You hear stories like this from nearby Norwegian bands, or think about the first Ozzfest when it came to Indy, and how the entire center section of the GA grass section turning into a vortex of death, followed by the majority of sod being pulled up and thrown around. These are the experiences we hear about on the news, or see in person--yes, I was at that Ozzfest, got hit by sod, ran in the vortex, flipped off a camera, and a Coal Chamber shirt that had "Don't Fuck With Me!" printed on the back. Said shirt later got me in trouble...and sadly, I have no idea where it went.

But, as I'm finding out, it's not really how the Stockholm scene is dealing with these metal bands. Instead, I see correlations to classical music concerts.

1) Attire. Classical music has it's "specific formal wear." Onstage with an orchestra, it's a tux. And, boy, are there people who hate tuxes. So then we get the newer chamber groups, with flashy modern dress garb. You end up with two groups--concert black, which now means an all black clothing, something a little nice, but no suits; or black with flair, some sort of bright accented colour. No matter what people try to do with classical music, we still end up conforming to our little groups. And that's not always a bad thing.

Go to a metal concert with three bands, what do you see? Everyone on stage is probably wearing a band shirt--and not necessarily for their band. In fact, it's often NOT for their band. In the audience? Band shirts, leather jackets, leather vests with patches from a hundred bands. Surprisingly uniform. Sadly, I left my couple band tees in the US, and I tend to leave my hoody on, so I stand out like a sore thumb. If it wasn't for my long hair and bushy beard, I probably wouldn't fit in at all. Though, that's more a stereotype and not something I see that often.

I'm seeing this less as a class issue--there is of course issues of class attached to types of clothing. I always chaffed at wearing tuxes because I am most definitely not of a class of people who would normally wear a tux. And I have a thick neck.

I'm seeing it as a form of bonding, creating a unique experience, and adding to the "ritual" of the occasion. Shared dress, shared mannerisms, a community made manifest in the physical world.

2) Respect. It's interesting, there's always a fight about not knowing when to clap, and people feeling awkward at a classical concert because they don't understand the conventions. And then there are interruptions via cell-phone, no flash photography, and other rules. As a classical musician, I never cared if people clapped between movements, even though it can ruin the flow...and I think part of that falls on performers on how they choreograph the movement changes. People regard orchestra concerts as stuck up and stiff. During many new music concerts, the paradigm has shifted to a more relaxed attitude. But, one should still be respectful (don't yell in the middle of the song)

Flash to a metal concert in Stockholm. Crazy concerts, intense bands, screaming, headbanging, photography...Well...kind of.

There's definitely headbanging. The majority is up front. Wanna headbang? Join the group doing it up front! Want to do it where you are? Also fine, but keep to your own area.

Screaming! Haven't heard it at all. Not even a lot of talking during songs--there's a little, usually in the next room (where the bar is). But if you're in the live room, you're there for the music. There's no need for a convention saying "Don't talk," because the people there aren't talking--they're attending to the music. There's some singing along, but not often (Well, except when someone is pulled on stage).

Mosh pit! What's a metal show without a mosh pit?!?

I've been in moshpits in the US. They're grungy, nasty things--elbows and fists fly. I take the glasses off when I go in because they will come flying off...and then someone will step on them, then punch me in the face.

Ok, hyperbole...a bit. But even for tame "pop-metal" groups like Bullet for My Valentine, the mosh pits can be dangerous places.

A most pit in Stockholm? Well, there's a lot of head banging. Then someone will start pinballing, hitting shoulders. Arms are tucked. Fists and elbows are not flying. There's shoving...and laughing. Lots of laughing. in fact, I've never been to concerts with so many happy people.

When someone crowd surfs, it's amazing. The group comes together and holds the person up. There's no jerk trying to pull him down. There's no "inappropriate" touching. When someone stage dives, they are caught and carried, laughing, the length of the club...to be carefully set down with everyone involved almost falling over in pure mirth.

I actually almost have a tear in my eye because, to me, that scene was beautiful.

It was pure respect and fun. Here are these guys, screaming about death, murder, Satan, dark pacts, etc...and they're all smiling ear to ear and laughing. Even when the bar got so packed I couldn't move, and there was some light shoving to get to the bar...it was always light, with a nod and a smile.

Respect, pure and simple. The people have come to hear this music, with all its thrash and doom. And that's what they want to do. If you're at the bar, talk away. If you're screaming in the club, you get a few looks--no shooshes or someone yelling "STFU," but a look of "Hey, aren't you here for the concert?"

Oh, there is flash photography, but no one seems to mind. But then, for all those groups, playing their music is second nature--you'd have to rip the guitar from their hands to have them miss a note. With a new music group with three or four rehearsals to put together the latest "new complexity" piece, it takes every ounce of concentration. So, I'll defend the "please, as few distractions as possible."

3) Small groups, made up of other musicians and a few hardcore followers.

I went to a new club last night. I saw a ton of the same people. Some have even started smiling at me in recognition (Soon, I'll be in the group!). And, as I'm finding out, many are in their own bands, or were in bands. Then there are the followers--obvious family members, or significant others. Then, there are the people like me, who will go to just about every concert. All in all, for the concert last night which was packed, probably 150 people. Considering how "big" Nominon and Protector are (in the niche), it'd seem like there'd be more...

But it's important to remember, even in the land of metal, it's still niche. I still got made fun of by a  prick in a rugby shirt coming out of a club--"Have a good time? Rock on! " "Hej hej! Thanks, the concert was awesome. Have a pleasant evening " Pretty sure he was more confused by my reaction than I was surprised by his. It's a niche that's demonized (though not as much in Sweden), and misunderstood (everywhere).

This sounds so much like what we hear in the "Crisis of Classical Music" conversation. The audience is getting older. We're playing mostly to ourselves. Any slight deviation from the norm will scare the audience, and we'll lose them. Find alternate venues and ways to put your music on!

It's interesting, because metal takes the opposite approach in some ways. They've stuck to their traditional attitudes--death metal from the late 80s sounds a lot like death metal being written now. They still play tiny, hole in the wall clubs...when, honestly, the concert last night would have done well someplace a bit larger. Definitely someplace where more than 75 people can be in the live room. 

The audience is the same, and yet, the metal audience doesn't shrink, it stays about the same size. Why? Two bands I've seen were pretty young, Obscyria and Insane (Sweden, not Italy). New music, traditional modes, younger audience following the younger bands. Why are younger generations still interested?

No answers, just questions to ponder.

4) Traditionalism. You won't find two groups more based in the traditional.

When Opeth came out with "Heritage" it was automatically decreed as not being death metal, not even really being metal. Maybe prog metal or melodic metal, but definitely not death metal. This upset some of their base. It also brought in the audience for more prog metal styles. Yes, they are different audiences, though there is overlap (just like the audience for Brahms may not be the audience for Mozart).

As musicians grow, change, and evolve, there's push-back from the traditional crowd. There's a reason bands from the late 80s like Protector still tour actively--the traditional group loves them. They have the attire, lyrics, amazing instrumentals, screaming. If there's a derivation, it's something else.

Orchestra vs. new music. Death metal vs. prog metal. Cassettes vs CDs. Live concerts vs. streaming. It's the question of traditional vs. progressive. The fight over attire can be seen in this light. The evolution of the music itself can be seen this way.

There will always been audience for the traditional. There will always been an audience for progressive. There will, invariable, always be an audience for any given style or genre of music. It may not be a large audience, audiences will overlap, and people's tastes are fickle, but there will be an audience. And there will always been an audience for concerts that like to mix everything up.

And, yes, I still see cassettes being sold at concerts.

********************

These are just a few points where I'm seeing nice correlation. There's also a very good chance these ideas could be spread to broader generalizations of how people interact with music in general. In fact, there are at least three or four general theories above that I've encountered in my studies. But, sometimes, more specific (thought still broad) examples can help see that we're not alone.

That is perhaps the biggest issue I'm having in the "musician of the 21st century" talk--too often the conversations seem to have blinders on; we think the challenge is unique to classical music; that it's the first time in history; that we have to reinvent the wheel.

But what's happening is not isolated to classical music. Trends, ideas, and experiences are much more widely spread than we are taking into account. We do need to prepare classical musicians for modern trends in music--we're already far too late. And we should be looking to other groups to see how they've kept their scene together, melding traditional and progressive. All this without reinventing the art-form itself.