These fabulous shots of Karin My, shot by Ola “Merchmannen” Josefsson (@merchmannen), capture the beauty and grace of Sweden’s secret weapon. Taken at a rare live appearance – this summer’s Synth i Molkom music festival – the images find the talented multi-instrumentalist and vocalist completely engaged with her audience.
The annual Subkult festival is an important event in the Swedish alternative music calendar. Krichan Wihlborg took his Leica along to this year’s event and returned with images from some of the scene’s biggest stars. The set includes Covenant, Spetsnaz, and Emmon.
There were many good reads in 2024. These are the books that we chose to end the year with.
EBM needs no explanation for consistent readers of Cold War Night Life. For newcomers, it can be thought of as the mutation of disco into jagged beats and bass lines, merged with the aggression of punk.
There were hints of it in the works of Giorgio Moroder and Cerrone; nudged by the nature of 8-step sequencers into harder rhythms suitable for the dancefloor. The next steps were taken by those nice young men from Dusseldorf, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. True punks, they abandoned guitars for an MS20 and turned their sexual energy into a combination of grooves and growls that set the template for a new genre.
Yuma Hampejs and Marcel Schulze pick up the story at this point, describing the development of EBM and its influence around the world. Previously released in German, their book is now available to an international audience in English. Inspired by Bengt Rahm’s bible of Swedish poptronica, Den svenska synthen, it is a compendium of acts, large and small, who have made an impression on the scene.
With scores of photos by some of our favourite photographers, including Krichan Wihlborg and Jens Atterstrand, Electronic Body Music is a vital and thorough chronicle of a key subculture.
The core question posed by David Stubbs is why modern music provokes strong, negative reactions in people who admire modern visual arts. While a Rothko might draw sighs, a performance of Stockhausen might draw moans. Stubbs wants to understand why one is celebrated while another is derided, despite the conceptual similarities and even cross-overs between the different forms of expression.
Along the way, he traces the development of modern music, from Schoenberg to David Toop, and AMM to Aphex Twin. The influence of what used to be called New Music on pop music, including The Beatles and Pink Floyd, is evident; but why are experimental composers treated with disdain? The answer rather depends in who is making the criticism and the grounds for it.
Cornelius Cardew – himself a sometime member of the improv group, AMM – famously attacked Stockhausen from a Marxist position. In Stockhausen Serves Imperialism, a collection of writings setting avant-garde politics against avant-garde music, Cardew led the charge on the German composer. A former student of Stockhausen, Cardew took issue with his mystical methods and politically palliative intentions. Instead of fanning the flames of protest, Stockhausen appeared to him as a firefighter against the consciousness of the musical elite. The book was Cardew’s counterpunch.
To some extent, Cardew’s approach was influenced by the Maoist politics of the day. In 1974, a strident rejection of the past (even the near past) was consonant with the Cultural Revolution in China. The movement against the Vietnam War and the rise of national liberation movements provided part of the backdrop against which Stockhausen’s work could be evaluated. For composers inspired to “serve the people,” Stockhausen’s creations were both inadequate and inappropriate.
The other main tendency of criticism of Stockhausen is rooted in conservatism. The Tory newspapers were happy to print cartoons satirising his music, because it departed from the conventions of the past. Just as jazz and rock music were frowned upon by older generations, the use of electronics and unconventional notation provoked those unhappy with change. Their resort to (weak) humour could raise a smile only among the most philistine readers.
In reviewing the dialectic between modern art and modern music, Stubbs teases out the differences in the markets for, eg, framed Basquiats and Neubauten records. That they should be judged according to market criteria is a wonder; but possession, as they say, is nine tenths of the law. The former can be clearly owned, while the latter ends up as data in a huge pile at the end of the Spotify app.
This book raises as many questions as it answers – and it ends on one. The discussion hurtles from one end of your record collection to the other. Even if Stubbs doesn’t settle the matter definitively, the debate is made richer by the reading.
One of the hazards of having a musical career that crossed paths with Genesis P-Orridge is that it lives in the shadow of his ego. Another is that Genesis will have stolen your work, presented it to the world as his own, and then refused to let you have the royalties.
Richard Norris (The Grid, Beyond the Wizard’s Sleeve) survived the first of these. The second – wouldn’t you know it – stung him, as it has so many others.
There really should be a support group for the victims of Genesis’ drive-by lootings of intellectual property. Among the stories will be how he was present at the delivery of acid house and tried to put his name on the birth certificate. Norris is in the best position to recount it, and he does so here with humour and grace.
Other stories include anecdotes involving Joe Strummer, Rick Rubin, Damian Albarn, and Sky Saxon. Most people would be hard-pressed to pick Norris out of a line-up, but he has crossed paths and worked with some of the biggest names in music. Crucially, despite the presence of many things in his bloodstream, he has met every situation head-on.
John Foxx first came to public attention as the punk who fronted Ultravox! (while they still had the exclamation mark). He went on to release Metamatic – the album Gary Numan dreamed about when he slept. More music followed, but part of Foxx’s joy came from creating the cover art for his recordings.
Electricity and Ghosts: The Visual Art of John Foxx collects many of Foxx’s graphic works for the first time. Designed with Jonathan Barnbrook, who has worked on packaging for John Foxx & The Maths, it is a reminder of the multiple dimensions that Foxx has inhabited since art school. As a maker of plastic art, collages, and film, Foxx was never going to be content to focus on only one medium.
Foxx’s work as a book designer for major imprints is lesser-known, but it has been staring out from shelves since the mid-90s. His use of Shreddies cereal on the cover art for “Endlessly” emerges as a previously obscure detail. His notebook sketches are shown for the first time. We might never see Foxx singing in concert again; but, with this book, his position as a total artist is reinforced.
Got your Oasis tickets? In the words of Gwyneth Paltrow, we wish you well. The idea of watching the Gallagher brothers from the back of a playing field, while Kangol-clad accountants shout their conversations over the music, screams of disappointment.
Never mind that the tickets cost a bleeding fortune at face value – Live Nation and Ticketmaster deployed their anti-consumer “dynamic pricing” systems to gouge punters to the maximum. Having been mugged by the entertainment monopoly, the shouty men in bucket hats and zipped-up parkas, rolling their shoulders with cocaine-fuelled intensity, will want their money’s worth of barging and spilling their beer. After long hours of throwing bottles of piss over the crowd, they will drive their Range Rovers, Volvos, and Teslas through the night with after-market LEDs lighting their ways with the intensity of a thousand suns.
Such is the state of the mainstream music industry at the end of 2024.
If there is hope, it comes from the independents. In our end-of-year list, many of the artists – even some of the bigger names – are self-releasing. Others are on smaller labels that curate rather than commercialise. Streaming services have eaten into the minimal returns that long-standing artists used to see. The Live Nation monopoly has sucked the oxygen out of performing, and even smaller venues are trying to claim a cut of merch sales. The economics of music are as bad as they have ever been. Our thanks, therefore, to the artists who continue to share their work despite the investment and the challenges of getting heard.
We are also grateful for the contributions of the artists we lost during 2024. The world of photography is much poorer without Brian Griffin. The drums of Keith Leblanc have gone silent, but his mark has been left all over modern music. Andreas Catjar-Danielsson was known for his work with Abu Nein and Covenant, but his solo pieces were wrought with sensitivity. Steve Albini, Françoise Hardy, and Quincy Jones are other figures who changed the face of music before shuffling off this mortal coil.
There is a message here for those of us who remain: Remember to show appreciation to artists while they are still alive. Even Our Kid, if you must.
We really enjoyed this album from Sweden’s 20Hz. With a contribution from the country’s secret weapon, Karin My, it was a creative accomplishment.
Sweden’s Sofi Bonde became a wellness podcaster on Youtube in 2024 but she also found time to record and release an album of solid pop-rock. The music is the message.
Originally released in 1981, this track was re-recorded in 2024. The Swedish group turned into Twice a Man, at the prompting of New Order’s promoter. This year, they rewound the clock to show off their dadaist credentials.
SFT turned 70 this year. The release of Instability of the Signal serves as a reminder of his deft touch.
Clan of Xymox have provided this remix of a track from Delerium with Kanga on vocals. It’s a nice combination of inputs.
The duo of Daniel Miller and Gareth Jones have returned with more excellent material derived from their modular kits and improvised interactions. Each of their Electronic Music Improvisations albums contains powerful extracts from the flow of electricity and ideas between the best of friends. This is lifted from volume 3.
Kite on Ice is coming up quickly, for those who like to combine electro-ballads and synchronised figure skating. In the meantime, the Stockholm-based duo have collected their recent singles as a reminder of the power and diversity of their output.
Psyche left Canada because the country was crammed full of horrorist electro-industrial acts. Moving to Europe gave them space to expand outside of Skinny Puppy’s shadow. This live album shows why this should never have been a concern. Psyche’s sound and soul are conpletely unique.
Dave Baker (Komputer, I Start Counting, Fortran 5) is the mover behind Ooo Eee Ooo. This album of remixes breathed new life into the material, which was already essential for collectors.
The Swedish post-punk act, Lejonhjärta, returned this year with a sound that leaned more heavily towards electronics. They also invested in this fabulous video.
The American duo have revived the harder dark wave sound for fetishists and the underground dancefloor. This EP is really rather good, as the English might say.
This collaboration between Graham Lewis (Wire, He Said) and Mark Spybey (Zoviet France) is an experimental interchange of note.
The outsiders are the keepers of the electronic flame. Llynks continue to nurture its light with this outstanding track.
The US seemed to miss out on the first wave of alternative electronics, apart from Devo, Our Daughter’s Wedding, and a few, scattered acts. Nice to have them back in the game. As Nina Belief’s recent material shows, it’s not all Beyoncé and Maroon 5 on that side of the water.
The genius of Silent EM is sadly under-appreciated. This release reveals that the quality of his material has not been diminished by the chaos of his home country or the passing of time.
M:onitor is a kind of Swedish supergroup of industrial musicians. Their sole recording is of a performance in a Skånian record shop. It is lovely stuff, and we look forward to an ironic tour t-shirt. We wear XXL.
Taken from the TG archives to help promote a box set, this track confirmed the power of the original Industrial artists.
The Slovenian art collective had a busy year, but the track we liked best was this rework by their sometime producer, Rico Conning.
Just as the year ran out, France’s Minuit Machine returned with a brilliant single that struck just the right balance between poptronica and dark electronics.
The first solo album from Front Line Assembly vocalist, Bill Leeb, shows off both his roots in hard electronics and pop leanings. He has always had a foot in each camp; but, with Model Kollapse, Leeb brings them (and some friends) together in a stand-out way.
If you love something, set it free. Billy couldn’t wait for a big label to sort out his new solo album, so he released it to world on Bandcamp. It pumps and glides, in just the right places.
The return of Propaganda was a long time in the making, but its sound didn’t stand still. Distilled to the musical duo of Mertens and Dörper, with vocal help from Thunder Bae, the act showed its capabilities have not been diminished by time.
We were impressed by this magnificent collection of songs from Julian Brandt and Marina Schiptjenko. Elegant, dreamy, and romantic, they kept the spirit of the Riviera alive.
Sweden’s poptronica pioneers, Page, offered up “Frusen” as an exemplary single. With a contribution from Rrussell Bell (Gary Numan, Dramatis), you could feel the genuine spirit of 1979: indie as anything, but pointing to the future.
Belgium’s godfathers of EBM, Front 242, are on their farewell tour. On their stop in Gothenburg, Sweden, master photographer Krichan Wihlborg shot them, along with their support act, REIN.
Swedish master photographer, Krichan Wihlborg, took in the festival organised for Progress Productions’ twentieth anniversary. He has shared some of the pictures he captured of the label’s artists on stage, along with scenes from the night.
We have repeatedly described Karin My as “Sweden’s secret weapon.” Raised in the south of the country, she absorbed the futuristic sounds of Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream, sitting alone in a room with vinyl provided by a family friend. The kling-klang and ambient pads of German synthesists inspired her life in music: from busking in Gothenburg to sprinkling magical dust on the works of leading artists. My writes delicate and poignant songs of her own, but she has a reputation for transforming the material of collaborators with elegant alchemy.
The multi-instrumentalist is self-taught, having built up her knowledge in steps. As My told ELECTRICITYCLUB.CO.UK in an interview:
From the money I got picking strawberries, I bought my first piano. Then I found a drum kit in a garage, got it for free and spent one year torturing the neighbours, but at least I got good enough to play drums and sing in a jazz n’ blues band, with some good old silver foxes. I then bought my first cello, learned how to use it and that was a long-time dream coming true.
My was “discovered” several times over, busking near Gothenburg’s largest shopping mall. Local promoters stopped to listen to her unplugged covers of futurepop bands, including Apoptygma Bezerk and VNV Nation. The TV4 channel included her in a feature about unusual street artists. Twice a Man’s Dan Söderqvist found her at an event where she appeared directly from her normal patch in an underpass. My’s modesty prevented her from pushing herself to the front of the pack, but it was clear from the beginning that her talent is something special.
Twice a Man are Swedish legends. They changed their name from Cosmic Overdose when they supported New Order, because the promoter thought it sounded too hippy-like. In fact, the band combined psychedelic and new wave elements in equal measure. Their sound has evolved over the decades, but the group continues to bear fruit that reflects their roots. My’s vocals blend to add generous notes that highlight the terroir.
The Swedish/Norwegian duo picked up My for their 2022 Prisma album, including her on this fragile, haunting track. The magic dust was sprinkled generously.
We know Johannes Hedberg and Daniel Vadestrid best as the amazing Thermostatic, but their ambient electronic work as CBL has gone on for longer and reached much larger audiences. My is one of their key collaborators, adding a sensitive touch that doesn’t overwhelm the base material.
An acoustic cover of the classic Page track, slowed down by My and reduced to its core elements. Page regularly produce poptronica perfection, and this version shows off the quality of Eddie Bengtsson’s songwriting and My’s skills as a performer.
No, not the Christian metal act. This AEX is Æon deuX, the Danish group launched on Claus Larsen’s LÆBEL. My adds atmospheric cello here that is unmistakably her own.
Recorded for the Rational Youth tribute, Heresy, this version of “The Man in Grey” was organised by Kevin Komoda with Elegant Machinery’s Robert Enforsen and My providing input.
https://on.soundcloud.com/fEr6E
Karl Gasleben of Twice a Man formed this side project to work with close friends and collaborators. My is one of his go-to artists, and she joins Peter Davidson to add vocals here.
Erik Ångman is 20Hz. Of this track, we said in our review:
Exit North” approaches the sensibility of Ryuichi Sakamoto, with its considered but artful use of piano. The delicacy of the keyboard is supported by atmospheric cello work provided by Karin My – Sweden’s secret weapon. It’s a beautiful, enveloping track that unfolds like fine linen.
John Lindqvister wrote this song with his daughter in mind. Originally set to electronics by Richard Flow, the band decided to take it in a different direction. My’s contribution gave it the cinematic feel it needed.
My’s first solo album was released in 2022. Silence Amydala was a surprisingly restrained but unified set of songs. Crafted together with her producer, D. Kaufeldt, it was a very personal experience for My. As she explained to ELECTRICITYCLUB.CO.UK, “Every story I tell has a grain or a mountain of truth to it.”
Right place, right time – a satisfying explanation for the careers of many engineers and producers. In the case of Ken Thomas, things are a little more complicated. The engineer and producer worked at a number of leading studios, including Trident and Advision, that exposed him to mainstream, radio-friendly artists like Queen and Rush; but, quite quickly, he became one of the favoured studio men for the industrial and experimental scenes.
Thomas worked with some of the biggest icons of the alternative music scene, including Martin Hannett and Martin Rushent, which didn’t hurt his credibility one bit. His roster of artists includes Wire, Moby, Modern English, Bush Tetras, Yann Tiersen, Maps, Psychic TV, Sigur Rós, Cocteau Twins, and Lemon Kittens. The link is his willingness to explore sounds outside of the normal commercial range. Record companies itching for hits might have sought out other producers, but artists found their way to Thomas when they could.
Thomas died in 2021, leaving behind a legacy of recordings that few can rival.
Thomas only released one album of his own music. This 1980 set fit neatly into the evolving post-punk sound of the time. It combines traces of funk with reverb experiments in ways reminiscent of Cabaret Voltaire, along with the kind of sonic waterboarding that wouldn’t be out of place at a Throbbing Gristle show.
23 Skidoo were North London creative kids who made music when they weren’t skateboarding. They explored different sounds, from gamelan to electro, but the most striking of their recordings was the collection for Fetish called Seven Songs. Wrapped in a Neville Brody sleeve, it combined grooves and exotic instrumentation with industrial music techniques.
This track, which is the stand-out song from the album, was produced by Thomas together with Cabaret Voltaire, whose Western Works studio was used for the recording. Stephen Mallinder of CV recalls:
Cabaret Voltaire played quite a few shows with Skidoo and I’d personally gotten to know them well through Neville Brody and the TG collective prior to my going into the studio with them and Ken Thomas. They were capturing that moment better than any other band, a real collision of modern and tribal that somehow worked more effectively in the pre-digital period, more organic, everything cutting and folding, made for the 12 inch format. Everyone was breaking the anchors of analogue, using instruments and studio equipment pretty loosely, but they were very focused on what elements worked and what they wanted. It was a full contingent with pretty fluid roles for everyone. Ken was perfect for getting that across with structure but without diluting that live dynamic. I just remember they were always long sessions over a few days, much fun with brief breaks for a bit of sleep and breakfasts back at my old gothic house that seemed as anarchically organised as the studio sessions.
There came a period in the history of Test Dept that the radical metal-bashers discovered The Spectacle. Together with the Welsh avant-garde theatre company, Brith Gof, they staged a piece in 1989 based on the destruction of a band of Celt warriors.
It was a politically-charged recording. As Test Dept explain in their own words:
Using the poem Y Gododdin as inspiration, the earliest poem in the Welsh language, it tells the fate of 300 Celtic warriors who set out to defend their homeland from 100,000 invading Angles around 600 A.D. They are only remembered through the survival of one epic poem. Defeat is never to be cherished but the glorious rendering of their account against an infinetely stronger enemy lessens the smugness of victory and lends dignity in retrospect to the vanquished. Culture then as now becomes a tool for survival. There is nothing marginal about the issues at stake. The right to self determination, the growth and celebration of native language, looking back further than ‘pop’culture; making huge visions concrete and breathing life back into characterswho, like so many were destroyed when a race first began to flex their colonial muscles. The intention of the performance was to reaffirm the energy, optimism, and dynamism of the last great flowering of Celtic Society.
The first Clock DVA album, released at the opening of 1981, was a dark beast. Unlike the Futurists who were emerging at the time, they wore black leather jackets and dabbled in heroin. It took Dave Gahan (who tapped Thomas to work on his first solo album) a decade to get to the same place, but by then Clock DVA had been stripped back to Adi Newton and an alternative electro aesthetic. Thirst was made by a conventional rock band who didn’t want to make rock music. With Thomas’ help, they accomplished their goal.
The Scottish band were looking for new directions after their self-produced album, Treasure. The Cocteaus were in great form, and almost bloody-minded in their disregard for the charts. Despite cracking the Top 40, Simon Raymonde described Treasure as the group’s “worst album by a mile.”
The band reconvened at Jacob’s Farm with Thomas on the desk. The result was an EP that represented progression while playing with song structures. It was a template that an Icelandic act were soon to show an interest in.
Genesis P-Orridge’s first post-Throbbing Gristle project brought him to Thomas for the recording of this signature song. Alex Fergusson from ATV wrote the instrumentation and Rose McDowall contributed, but P-Orridge’s lyrics hinting at the murder of Brian Jones were captivating.
Did the Rolling Stones spend much time worrying that Psychic TV had uncovered a grand conspiracy? We doubt it, but P-Orridge was given to fanciful tales: he claimed that ghostly traces of Jones appeared on the tapes for this track after he held a seance in the studio.
Thomas was introduced to Iceland’s answer to the Cocteau Twins by Thor Eldon from The Sugarcubes, whose first album he had mixed. Thomas saw the band live and pitched to work with them on their next recordings. He stayed for multiple albums – Agaetis Byrjun, (), Glósóli, and Takk – and helped them to realise their sound.
Founded by Gudrun Gut and Bettina Köster, Malaria! was one of a succession of M! bands that subverted expectations in German post-punk and pop. This early track was co-produced by Thomas and Mark Reeder.
There isn’t another band like Wire. There are hundreds of imitators, but the unique combination of personalities has given the band its own tension and tenacity. At the time that Thomas engineered the recording of this song, they were in their genius art-rock guise with Bruce Gilbert on guitar. It is one of the times that bassist Graham Lewis took vocal duties, in a swipe at an encounter with a narcissist. They are out there.
James Chapman’s Maps project involved Thomas as the mixing engineer, alone and with his son. This track from Vicissitude has a futuristic dynamism.
For his comeback album, The Painter, William Orbit reached out to a number of artists to collaborate. Both Ken and Jolyon Thomas had roles on this track, which also features a production credit for Daniel Miller.
The position of women in music generally reflects the position of women in society. A Parliamentary committee in the UK recently released a report which began by laying out some of the issues that women face in the music industry. It makes sobering reading, so we have copied out some passages from “Misogyny in Music” below.
We have also assembled a playlist with more than eight hours of material by women that deserves more airtime. Yes, Spotify has plenty to answer for, but it is where the greatest quantity of music could be found to make the playlist. By all means, look up the artists off Spotify and buy their music and merch from Bandcamp or other sites.
1. Women are underrepresented in key roles in the music industry. Positions of authority, from senior leadership through to roles in Artists and Repertoire and production have historically been more likely to be occupied by men. This is reflected in the unequal representation of female artists in the rosters of artists at major record labels, in airtime, streaming and as headliners at music festivals.
2. In many levels of the industry female representation is improving, in part due to the support of a myriad of targeted programmes, but in certain areas progress is slow and shackled by discrimination, misogyny and sexual abuse in an industry that is still routinely described as a “boys’ club”. Women seeking careers in music continue to face unjustifiable limitations in opportunity, a lack of support, gender discrimination and sexual harassment as well as the “persistent issue of equal pay” in a sector dominated by self-employment. These issues are intensified for artists faced with intersectional barriers.
3. Abuse and discrimination are not unique to the industry but they are amplified in music by the high number of freelance workers in the sector—which gives rise to significant power imbalances in working relationships and precarious employment practices—and the informal nature of many workplaces which, together with late-night working, often in places where alcohol and drugs are available, can result in women working in environments that are unsafe. None of these concerns will come as a surprise to anyone with knowledge of the sector; the question we asked repeatedly in this inquiry and one which the industry must continue to ask itself is why these concerns persist and how they can be better tackled.
We have the same question. As an industry, we must do better. As a society, we must do better. And not just on the 8th of March.
The Swedish poptronica scene is not short of talent, but few of its participants can match the glamour of Page’s Marina Schiptjenko.
The daughter of a Swedish mother and Ukrainian father, Schiptjenko was born in Malmö, the regional capital of Skåne. It was there that she met Eddie Bengtsson, a skateboarder and drummer with a taste for Silicon Teens and Devo. The two had already started dating when Bengtsson traded in his drum kit for two keyboards at the local music shop. Schiptjenko, who was classically trained, taught Bengtsson to play his monophonic synth. Together, they started Sweden’s pioneering poptronica band, Page.
Page quickly became one of the most significant acts in the emerging Swedish synth scene. It was effectively the house band at Stadt Hamburg, an all-ages club at the centre of Malmö’s social world for the emerging syntare culture. With bouncy pop singles sung entirely in Swedish, it was both a successor to ABBA and its antithesis. Page continues to release new music and grow its fan base to this day, but both members have taken time to focus on other projects.
For Schiptjenko, the most significant have been Vacuum and BWO – two Swedish hyperpop bands with a flair for the theatrical and chart-climbing skills. Schiptjenko has not lost her head in the dizzy heights of commercial success, however – she has also worked with close friends like Julian Brandt (Julian & Marina) and Claes Bang (This Is Not America) to make music for the love of it.
A gallerist who deals in modern art from Stockholm and Paris, Schiptjenko moved to Sweden’s capital in 1986 to study comparative literature and theatre. These interests were combined when she appeared in Ruben Östlund’s movie, The Square. A satire on the elitism of the art world and the attitudes of the rich, the film took the Palm d’Or at the 2017 Cannes Film Festival.
An intellectual and multi-sided artist, Schiptjenko is a much-loved figure in Sweden. Through her activity in Page and her work as a gallerist, she returns the feeling. It is a virtuous circle that has kept her place in the hearts of the syntare community as fashions have changed and the years have passed.
Written with the third original member of Page, Anders Eliasson, “Dansande Man” became an early hit for the band. In this clip, we see its members, including Schiptjenko, in their youth.
Reduced to the core duo of Schiptjenko and Bengtsson, Page released this professional music video in 1995. Directed by Arvid Unsgaard, it shows off the band’s senses of melody and humour in equal measure.
Formed by Alexander Bard, after he dissolved Army of Lovers, Vacuum was designed for pop success. Bard told an interviewer, “Marina is the most creative and the best musician in the band.” She had to leave Page behind to focus on this project, which took her into the dance music stratosphere.
After two albums with Vacuum, Schiptjenko left and joined Bodies Without Organs. Their hyperpop sound – curated, again, by the provocative philosopher Alexander Bard – found commercial success.
BWO entered the Swedish Melodifestival – trials for Eurovision – in 2009 with this single from their fourth album. It was their second attempt at representing their country, but they narrowly missed out.
This delightful clip recalls the innocence of Page in their early days. It is a contrast to the ultra-concentrated pop sensibilities of Vacuum and BWO in the heady days around the turn of the century. Schiptjenko was to reclaim her position in Page in 2010 for the album, Nu [EN: Now].
Schiptjenko’s return to Page was not on an exclusive basis. She collaborated with Julian Brandt, the bassist in Lustans Lakejer, to produce a series of releases inspired by French romantic pop of the 1960s and perhaps a little Astrid Gilberto, mixed up with the Pet Shop Boys.
Taen from their first album, this track from Julian & Marina shows off the elegant sound and style that the duo created.
Schiptjenko met the Dutch actor, Claes Bang, on the set of The Square. The two became fast friends, and Bang invited Schiptjenko to join him for some recordings of his act, This Is Not America.
Page have continued to release albums, getting more sophisticated as they mature, but on stage the crowds love to sing along to the classics. This clip captures the mutual love of the band and its audience. It is the spirit that Schiptjenko embodies.
