Tag: Bq
I hate irony in music. Hate it with passion. That's one of the reasons that Scandinavian music is appealing to me - it's so refreshingly irony-free. Bands like The Hellacopters play ridiculous, over-the-top arena rock, but there's no "ha-ha, we're only joking" wink-wink/nudge-nudge to it. They play it like that's what they were meant to do and they do it well. There's nothing half-ass about it and that's why it's awesome.
So why does The Bear Quartet's "Fuck your slow songs" appeal to me? It's approach is so blatant, but that too, is the point. The lyrics:
"Your criticism has been noticed
and we plead guilty to a major part
but nothing's easier or more fun
than annoying young punks
so we slowed it down
and added strings and a steel guitar
we wrote song words
about how misunderstood we are"
It's entrapment! If you're annoyed, it means they've won. It's true - nothing is easier than annoying young punks and I know that first-hand. The song itself isn't exceptional, but it serves as a fine anthem for the band's dissatisfaction with the musical norms of the day and proves to be prognostic with regards to their future path. That's more than enough to make it Important with a capital i.
2001's "Gay icon" was the first BQ album I bought. Despite my horror at the gatefold image, I found it to be a great introduction to the band as I immediately set off to devour their vast back catalogue. The music tends to be a bit too typical slacker/indierock for my tastes, but that's okay - there's plenty of highlights to make up for it.
The Bear Quartet - Fuck your slow songs
Our guestposter for this week's Bear Quartet post is Martin Lundmark of Tenderversion Recording. Not only is he responsible for many of my favorite recent releases, he's also one of the guys responsible for the "Money talks" BQ tribute compilation, so you know the subject is near and dear for him.
Ok, I'm not sure where to begin. There are thousands of beginnings to this story. This love affair, of sorts. I guess we're divorced now, me and The Bear Quartet. But we used to be very much in love, married. That passionate kind of love, the one you only experience if it hits you while you're still in your teens.
I saw a CD at my local record store once. This was 12 years ago, or something. It had a picture of a worn-down kitchen or bathroom wall on the front cover. Who the fuck puts something like that on the front sleeve? The aesthetic used, the portrait of something gloomy - even though I didn't recognize at the time - was very much BQ. I bought the CD thanks to the artwork, which didn't look like anything else. "Everybody else" would become my favorite album for the remainder of that year.
Two years later, BQ released "Moby Dick". I think I didn't listen to anything else for months. I saw them live for the first time at Arvikafestivalen that year. Me and 23 others. The festival was crowded, but somehow everybody else missed this show. Like always. And that chubby guy who sung didn't fit with the beautiful voice heard on "Everybody else", that tiny guy who kept beating his guitar with a drumstick couldn't be the same guy creating the most mesmerizing hooks on "Moby Dick". It just didn't seem right. This was before you could Google for bandpics. This was before shitbands with a shitload of energy could make themselves famous on MySpace.
I ran into drummer Jejo Perkovic at Debaser in Stockholm in 2004. I'd just put together a tribute album with 16 artists covering BQ songs. We got to talk, I bought him a glass of white wine and soda. I don't remember that much of our conversation, but one thing stuck in my mind. He told me that he considered "My war" to be their "White album", their masterpiece. I guess he was right.
Lately, or for a long time, I haven't been listening to The Bear Quartet. I've missed out on their two last albums. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that The Bear Quartet used to be the best band in the world. And still is.
The Bear Quartet - Everybody gets to play
This week's post of The Bear Quartet comes courtesy of Aymeric from French music blog Absolut Noise, a site he characterizes as being solely dedicated to The Bear Quartet 'cept that he also covers other Swedish music sometimes. This is what he had to say:
Yesterday, I saw I'm From Barcelona live. I chatted a bit with their (very nice) singer Emmanuel. I mentioned The Bear Quartet to him. "They made so many records" he said. "They are not very famous in Sweden. They are underground," he added. That's pretty much it. You can be a popular (actually good) band with one single album or remain an underground band which released 14 albums (if I am right). Weird.
Like 99,99% of French people, I had never heard about BQ before moving to Stockholm in August 2003. I discovered them quite late then. Now they are my favourite band ever.
I remember the first time I listened to "Saturday night". Well, I knew BQ changed their sound for each of their albums. I knew they could make strange records such as "My war". But I could not expect that "Saturday night" would be THAT weird. At first I hated it. Where the hell were the guitars? Where the fuck were the melodies? Then, I got it. This is a piece of genius. And if "Saturday night" is an erratic trip to nowhere, it remains now my favourite BQ album (with "Angry brigade").
"The Supremes" is my fave song on this album. Not sure why. Maybe 'cause it makes me wanna bang my head against the wall. Or jump through a window. Anyway, I am pretty sure an elephant shouts in the microphone several times on this track. Definitely not a healthy song.
For more BQ-related goodness, check out Absolut Noise's recent 1-year birthday celebration post which features live tracks from Mattias Alkberg BD: http://absolutnoise.blogspot.com/2007/02/mabd-live-for-my-birthday.html
The Bear Quartet - The Supremes
"What I hate" is the first Bear Quartet song I heard that truly floored me. When I first became interested in them and was busy downloading random songs, this is the one that stood out and made me go "what the fuck is this?" The song is such a scathing "fuck you" in every sense, from the combative lyrics, to the harsh sound, to its very placement as the opening track of the album "My war". What kind of self-respecting indierock'n'roll band kicks off their eighth record with an eight-minute long, angry electronic drone? The Bear Quartet, that's who. Though the lyrics gradually become more introspective as the song progresses, slowly redirecting the hate inward, it's still incredibly antagonistic throughout. The guitar screams with shrill white noise. Feedback reigns, careening every which way. The Bear Quartet has always been known to challenge their audience and this is a perfect example. You have to ask yourself: can you hang? Do you see this song as an aberration? Or can you accept The Bear Quartet wholly and completely? My answer to the latter was an overwhelming "yes". It's provocative. Subversive. This is exactly the sort of thing that separates the good from the great. Never be content with the same boring shit.
The Bear Quartet - What I hate
This week's Bear Quartet post comes to us from the other Penny Century, now known as Little Big Adventure:
"Guess every fall has its storm / but it's not knocking on my door / as you used to"
I would like to favouritize the latest album "Eternity now" and it's outstanding track "The lost kid office".
At first I thought I should say something about "Suits on for Sandi". Something about how beautiful the lyrics, with its suppressed darkness and sadness, is. With its romantic nostalgia. And the light, but heavy guitar-structures. Ugly but beautiful. Like always with this band. Just in the middle of the best record The Bear Quartet has released. The best song in the trilogy about Sandi.
But then I listen to "The lost kid office". The sound is strange at first. You don't know if it's your speakers that are broken or your ears. Maybe it's supposed to sound like this? Like something coming out of a can. Wet and smeary. It sounds like the song is about to explode, but something is holding it back.
The vocals is so light. So high and wobbly.
You expect Matti's voice to crack at any time. Everything will fall apart.
Soon.
But then something happens. The song explodes. Everything is everywhere. And at that moment I realize that no other song before or after this will ever be so beautiful. So heartbreaking and intelligent. At that moment, this is the best song, the best sound, ever that has come out of a pair of speakers. Everything else falls apart.
I would like to favouritize "The lost kid office".
I would like to.
But I can't.
For more on Little Big Adventure, including free mp3 downloads, go here: www.littlebigadventure.se
The Bear Quartet - The lost kid office
Week #2 and we're going strong! Our latest Bear Quartet tribute post comes from Parasol's Jim Kelly, probably one of the biggest BQ fans I know. His pick? Well, read for yourself:
"World War III" is taken from the "Load it" EP, recorded in 2000 and released in very early 2001, one of The Bear Quartet's truly wondrous b-sides. A sweet, sad little song of truly epic proportions, with lyrics detailing a helicopter rescue and a childhood game of hide-n-seek gone wrong. It touches on fatalism and fealty (or a lack thereof) and finding yourself all sorts of lost for all sorts of reasons. And when it couldn't get any more melancholy, when the girl with the head-injury is happy to be in a helicopter, when the kid with the great hiding place realizes the game ended a long time ago and he's alone, what do they throw in instead of a guitar solo? That's right. Bagpipes. Or something suitably bagpipe-like, a mournful and keening wail, but it's probably just my favorite guitarist on the planet, Jari Haapalainen, playing mandolin through his Fender Twin, or something. So here I am with a lump in my throat and the solemn promise of further heartache (because you know it's not over)... Like when frontman Mattias Alkberg sings bassist Peter Nuottaniemi's wrenching lyrics in the closing stanza: "I was hiding from you who had gone home without telling me, and I swear that sometimes it's like I'm still out there." Hand me a hanky. "World War III" is Scandinavian Melancholy as a musical sub-genre, as a guilty pleasure, as an itch you enjoy scratching, as an incurable affliction, encapsulated in 4 minutes and 4 seconds.
The Bear Quartet - World War III
It's a trap! loves The Bear Quartet. It's no secret. A couple weeks ago I wondered aloud about instituting a regular BQ-tribute post and, after a bit of back n' forth with some potential guest writers, it was settled. Every Saturday throughout the year of 2007, IAT will honor Sweden's greatest indierock band. However, the term 'greatest' can mean a lot of things, especially when referring to a band like BQ. They are one of my most favorite bands. The can be beautiful, inspiring, even profound, but they can also be infuriating, confusing and just plain weird. We may disagree on when each of those moments occur and that's part of what makes them so special.
For this first edition of the new series, I've asked the band Penny Century to contribute:
Ok, we picked "Mom and dad" as our favorite. A bit of a boring choice we suppose, but if you don't want your band to break up after fighting over different songs, you better pick the classic.. There's so many great tracks, but never the less, this is probably the one BQ-song that has been quoted, sung and played most by the members of Penny Century through the years. With wonderful melodies, a harmonica to kill for and incredibly well-written lyrics, this little childhood recollection never fails to move us. "I'm still stuck somewhere between who I was and who I wanted to be." That line alone is reason enough to name your band after a Bear Quartet album.
The Bear Quartet - Mom and dad
I'm considering a change to my posting schedule: instead of the usual oldie mp3, I could post a different Bear Quartet song every Friday. Lord knows, there's more than enough good ones to get me through 2007, possibly even further. I'm serious, this might happen. At the very least I'll probably end up dedicating at least one Friday per month to BQ. It's due time that Sweden's great indierock band gets the respect and attention they deserve beyond their country's borders. I've chosen today's song not only for it's punked-out/fuck-you attitude, but also because the female guest vocals come courtesy of Karin Dreijer Andersson from current band du jour The Knife. The album: 1998's "Personality crisis", often my favorite BQ record for its heavy load of introspective, folksier material. Not that it's apparent from this track, of course. Keep in mind that it's likely I'll declare every BQ album to be my favorite as time goes by, but that just goes to show how good they are.
The Bear Quartet - Volksblues
Have you heard the new Bear Quartet single yet? Do you like it? I do. It's not their usual folksy pop, but they've never been a band content with repeating the same thing over and over. They thrive on challenging both themselves and the audience. Even when the results aren't top-notch, I still think it's admirable that they make the effort. That's what makes them such a special band. The qualities that can make them so ingratiating are the same that make them so damn brilliant. They are the leaders, we must be content to follow. Trying to complain about it is simply foolish.
The Bear Quartet - I have an itch