The Swedish legeds, Page, are back with a new album. The poptronica pioneers recently took to the stage at an event in Stockholm; proving that it works live as well as it does on vinyl. The duo of Marina Schiptjenko and Eddie Bengtsson is in excellent form, even after forty-five years together.
We sat down with Page’s Eddie Bengtsson to find out how he approached the new material.

The new album is called Inget Motstånd [EN: No Resistance]. What has inspired the theme?
It started with a cover concept and an art idea that had something to do with vintage electronic components, circuit boards, and so on. Also, I had a feeling that sometimes people just accept things in life — what happens in the world and, of course, everyday situations — even though they don’t agree with what is happening.
Some people do raise their voices, but most of the time their opinion is not the opinion that I and the majority have. But they are very, very loud (and don’t meet much resistance).
Also, some extremely stupid — and sometimes dangerous — decisions meet no resistance at all. So that became the title of the album: No Resistance. The “word-game” of the title gets a bit lost when you translate it into English. The electronic component resistor is called “motstånd” in Swedish (its called “resistor” also, though). So the title, Inget Motstånd means both No Resistance and No Resistor in Swedish.

Moogs have become your main brand of synthesiser. What is it about their sound that attracts you?
I think these day its more like, “What was it about their sound that attracted you?”. These days, it’s like Old Moog and New Moog. The new stuff from Moog (and this is my opinion) sounds and especially looks like any other synth brand.
I liked the filters on the old stuff, even though Moog probably would say it’s the same. But, mostly, I liked the looks of Moog, compared to other major brands. Nowadays, Moog looks like any Korg, Yamaha, or Arturia synth. I suppose Moog call it “progress.”
“Klarar det ändå” is your most Kraftwerkian track as Page. What do you think about their contributions and their ongoing performances?
I didn’t have Kraftwerk in mind when I wrote that song. Maybe more Krautrock, like Can, La Düsseldorf, and NEU! I’m happy, though, that you say that you can hear some Kraftwerk in there, even if it wasn’t my intention. The song maybe doesn’t sound like Krautrock; it was more the feeling I got when listening to that stuff.
Kraftwerk was an amazing band – unique and fantastic. I really do miss them! Luckily, I saw them twice, a long time ago. “Ralf Hutter & Friends Kraftwerk Tribute Band” is of no interest to me, even though they play Kraftwerk songs and use the name, Kraftwerk!
Kraftwerk for me is the band with the members that were on the fantastic albums from Radioactivity to Computer Word (Electric Cafe is not so fantastic).
There is a sense, particularly in songs like “Kära du,” of a nostalgia for different times. How do you feel about the decades you have been through as an artist? What is the vibe you take from each of them?
Oh, that is a hard question to answer in a short way. That would be a book — and a very good one at that. But, yes, I am a nostalgic person. When it comes to music (and other things) it was better before. The amount of music was limited, and it had a chance to reach people — a major part of people.
These days there are a few artists who “rule the world and the media,” because companies with lots of money have decided that that’s the way it should be. Music revolutions will never happen again.
The music industry was unprepared when punk hit in 1977. It was caught off guard, and they won’t let stuff like that happen again. Underground will remain underground and won’t get a chance to become more than that. It’s not a rule — but almost.
And the audience? Well, to make choices, you have to be informed what there is to choose from. If you are fed a steady diet of “McMusic,” then it will be McMusic you will think you like; particulatly if you’re not making an effort and looking for other things.

And Page…? Well, we have always been outside of and against the establishment; and, probably, that’s what we will continue to be. Page is neither after nor before our time — nor on time. Page sounds like Page, and nothing else sounds like it. That’s the way it always has been and will be.
As I said, it’s a hard question to answer, and I don’t know if I was even close to doing it. It’s time for the “Page: The Complete Story of an Electronic Pop Band” book.
The sound of Page has been keeping the flames of Ultravox! and Gary Numan alive, over the past few albums. The new material steers in a slightly different direction. Does this signal a shift in your feelings towards those influences?
Yes, definitely! I’m a bit worried that I might have “listened-till-it-broke” with those two artists. I hope not, but I’m worried. I haven’t been listening to Numan or the Ultravoxes for one-and-a-half years now. I overdid it.
I have “killed” music before that way. Stuff like Depeche Mode and Yazoo (or anything else by Vince Clarke). I know I will never listen to it again – ever.
When making the latest album, I wasn’t influenced by music; it was more reading about it that influenced me. The feeling that got inside of me when reading about early English electronic bands and German Krautrock. The way they did stuff and the work behind it – the experimentation, the vibe, the limitations – that was what inspired me the most.

Page is the original Swedish poptronica act. It is 45 years since you and Marina set up the band. What are your most powerful memories of the decades since you sold your drums and bought two monosynths?
Oh! That should also be included in the book. There are so many memories. So many good stories – and bad ones, also. It’s maybe not a memory, but Page is a band that has always been uncompromising. We have always been very passionate about what were doing. And I guess that’s a big reason why we are still going on.
Some of the Page material has echoes of your time as the songwriter for S.P.O.C.K. For example, “Små signaler” on the CD version of the new album. Do you ever think about putting on your Captain’s shirt again and writing for them?
Hahaha! Interesting that you should ask. It happens, now and then, when I write songs, that the song suddenly turns in to a potential S.P.O.C.K-song. S.P.O.C.K had a very characteristic sound and style, especially when I wrote the songs. And yes, it happens, now and then, that I think, “Wow – this would make a perfect S.P.O.C.K-song!” Songs in the style of “Never Trust A Klingon,” “Alien Attack,” or “E.T. Phone Home.” When that happens, I either delete it or try to rework it into something else.
As for me “putting on the Captains shirt” again and writing for them? No, that will never happen.
(Main photo: Jonas Karlsson. Other photos: Simon Helm)



The Curse of 2016 took a lot of artists from us. The year opened with Lemmy’s passing fresh in everyone’s minds, and the roll call of musicians claimed by the Grim Reaper kicked off from there: David Bowie, Prince and Vanity, Leonard Cohen, Pierre Boulez, Keith Emerson and Greg Lake, Gisela May, Craig Gill (Inspiral Carpets), Pete Burns, Caroline Crawley, James Woolley (Nine Inch Nails), Alan Vega (Suicide), Steven Young (M/A/R/R/S and Colourbox) and Richard Lyons (Negativland) all shuffled off this mortal coil. We’ve often said at
As the half of Psyche who handled the keyboards, Stephen Huss was a legend of Canadian alternative music. His spiky hair and hook-laden synth lines were instantly recognisable, and Psyche’s style became the template for a dozen imitators.
Sarah Badr’s FRKTL project matured in 2016 with a proper second album. The first release from the Anglo-Egyptian digital pioneer was Atom, back in 2011: an electro-acoustic marvel that stretched sounds beyond recognition. Qualia, named for the psychological and philosophical categories of qualities that are always experienced but hard to explain, went further and incorporated Badr’s voice and world rhythms suitable for the dance club into mixes that were both exotic and intriguing.
There are signs that Covenant, the Swedish darkwave legends, are slowly, collectively, morphing into Brian Eno. It’s certainly hard to avoid that conclusion when a feature of their new album is the sound of the sea and engines being focused by a parabolic sound mirror; particularly as they were attracted to it as a sonic and historical metaphor for Europe’s response to the Mediterranean refugee crisis. The Blinding Dark puts some of the experimentation that was reserved for the bonus disc on Leaving Babylon in the foreground, even as it showcases the band’s continuing deftness with energetic rhythms.
Nash the Slash is sorely missed. A true Canadian original, he is known outside of his home and native land mainly for his early work with Gary Numan and an album produced by Steve Hillage. However, Nash was also a composer of soundtracks to surrealist films (“Un Chien Andolou”) and – so we argue – the inventor of the sounds that became signatures for The Orb and System 7.
Are we allowed to blow our own trumpet? Well, we’re going to, because the Heresy compilation blew many minds in 2016. A tribute to Rational Youth, it gathers no less than nineteen artists, including the Canadian electro-pioneers and two former members of the band, into three vinyl platters. There is a CD bundled into the package, but no downloads. There is no way not to touch the vinyl in order to play the material. You can almost hear Super Hans saying: “No downloads.”
Speaking of Rational Youth, they made 2016 better with a new album up their sheer black sleeves, in the form of Future Past Tense. The first studio album from RY since To the Goddess Electricity, it proved that the Canadian pioneers have lost none of their sense of melody or political angst. The lead single, “This Side of the Border,” is influenced by Canadian nationalism, social democracy, nostalgia and The Who – a heady cocktail made more potent by the addition of Gaenor Howe’s vocals.
It is hard to believe that Vile Electrodes are only on their second studio album. Britain’s best synth band stunned with The Future Through a Lens, which established a benchmark for the island’s electronic scene with tracks like “Proximity” and “Nothing.” Now that the island has decided to sink into the Atlantic, rather than accept European influences, the Viles are setting the bar again in a less pop-oriented vein.
Pole position for 2016 didn’t go to an obvious choice with a hipster following on Facebook. Eric Random has come and gone from the music scene over the years, but is most closely associated with Cabaret Voltaire and its Doublevision label. Random’s return in 2016 with Words Made Flesh kept some of the indie-industrial vibe from his earlier recordings, but was notable for repositioning dance music as something with character and texture. With influences drawn from world music, Random breathed new life into electronica, as this stand-out track demonstrates.
Take Page, the original Swedish synthpop act. Founded in the suburbs of Malmö in 1980, Page were inspired to take up keyboards by Silicon Teens, the alter-ego of Mute Records’ founder, Daniel Miller. The back-story is that, before he discovered Depeche Mode, Miller had dreamed of a teenaged pop group based entirely around the synthesizers that were starting to become more compact and affordable at the end of the 1970s. He set out his vision through a series of singles and an album of rock standards re-conceived using analogue synths, which were attributed to a fictitious quartet of youthful musicians. When these records reached Sweden, Miller’s idea was turned into reality by 18-year old skateboarder Eddie Bengtsson, who was inspired to sell his drum set and buy two Korg synthesizers: one for himself and one for 15-year old Marina Schiptjenko, a classically-trained pianist who had fallen in love with electronic music when she saw Gary Numan playing on Swedish television. Together, Bengtsson and Schiptjenko created a new template for electronic pop, and Page became the house band for a growing audience of dedicated syntare (synthers).
