Freak Kitchen Blog - December, 2006

(The fine people of Cardiff, Wales)

Drove for Denmark the following day where we had booked a ferry from the city of Esbjerg on the east coast of Jutland that would take us to Harwich, England. Swung by our right hand Torben Schmidt in Kolding for a cup of coffee. Later got on the very cosy ferry and had dinner before watching the brilliant V for Vendetta on the cabin TV (I really enjoyed the film. Way better than I expected. A must get actually).

Got to Harwich by noon the following day. Focused hard on driving on the left side of the road. Scary stuff for a Swedish bloke. After a couple of genuinely terrifying roundabouts it started to seem alright and we set course for Cardiff, Wales. Got there in good time and was met by Kris and Gav from the band Sanction. The guys pretty much started this UK tour by inviting us over to play at The Point, a groovy venue inside an old church. After this show was nailed we let our precious right hand Mik Gaffney at Proper Music take over and coordinate fan power in action, hunt down clubs, book hotels, e t c. Many people were involved in making this tour happen and we hereby thank you all! Most of all we want express our gratitude toward Mik and the tremendous work he and his band Tortilla Army have done. We owe you dudes and we’d be happy to do it again soon.

Rigged gear in the nice venue when my dear friend Simon Fraser Clarke from Laney showed up + buddy Mark. Simon brought me a new cab, new tubes, electric cables for UK sockets and other useful stuff (like new Laney logo signs which I always mess up on my gear). Thank you, bro Simon. Always a pleasure to see you!

(Chris going crazy on the ferry)

(Right now I sit in a cab in Russia with Chris and Camilla. Björn and Ivan, our promoter here, are sitting in the car next to us. We’re about to jump on the night train to Moscow. I picked up this Cooking blog, mostly being written a slightly silly metal pen on my Qtek cell phone, a useful device when the laptop battery is out to lunch, and realize I will never be able to go into super detail. The UK tour was so intense and, as Mik stated, “back to basics”, with a lot of driving, little sleep, lots of fun, needless to say, but no time whatsoever to write a web diary. If I don’t type what’s going on at latest a week after, it tends to get somewhat blurry. If you think it’s getting slightly compressed here and there from now on, you’re probably right).

The five of us went to have nice fish and chips after a walk in hard rain and wind (that I dig). Starbucks caffeine afterwards on our stroll back. Greeted fans outside.

After Tortilla Army and Sanction we hit the stage in the old church and went nuts. As usual we had a wonderful time on stage and the audience really seemed to dig it as well. Spotted my friend James Went in the crowd. Covered in Swedish sweat we signed stuff like we always do afterwards and hung out for a while before it was time to pack everything together and get back on the road. Thank you, Wales! We’ll be back soon.

(Hell o’ clock in the morning somewhere close to Lichtenstein, I am sure)

A hotel was booked outside of Nottingham and we had around three hours to get there. Driving day-time in the UK is no easy task, at least not if you got gigs to do during evenings. There are simply too many cars out there to make good time. We would spend small eternities in jams to get to the various cities. The entire UK tour was planned for us to travel night time. We got in our van and followed Mik and company’s minibus. Everything went fine until Mik saw a crucial exit he had to take to get to Nottingham. I wasn’t fast enough to follow since I had a monstrous truck blocking the road between us. It was a simple choice: either continue forward or well… die, I guess. Major, major shit. What followed was something I almost get stomach ache only thinking back of.

Picked up my cell phone right away to see how we quickly could solve this mess. I was given an exit that somehow never appeared (it might have been tired Scandinavian eyes, I don’t know). After driving for about fifteen minutes in exactly the wrong direction I couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to go for the first exit I saw, which was a disastrous one with an empty one way road toll booth leading into nowhere land, or at least that’s how it felt. We were very, very, very (did I say very?) lost in the English countryside and I swear I saw signs that said Lichtenstein. (Mik says it was Litchfield but I beg to differ. It felt like Lichtenstein).

We drove and we called our friends in the other van. Then we drove some more and called again. What do you see when looking out the window? What direction are you going? Who are you and why are you in Lichtenstein at this ungodly hour?

(Nottingham’s finest)

Around five or six AM, we, by sheer magic, managed to find one another in a roundabout in the outskirts of Lichte… Litchfield, I think. To prevent our vehicle from getting lost again I sniffed the butt of Mik’s van for the rest of the trip.

Got to the hotel early, or late, or whatever, slept for twenty seconds, that’s how it felt, before getting up and having a very greasy breakfast at Little Thief as Tortilla Army calls the place (I think the name was Little Chef). Coffee, coffee, coffee and then search for Hockley Music Academy where I was to have a clinic. Passed the BBC building a dozen times before
nailing the right address. Thought of Camilla back home. She’s a sucker for BBC dramas and their outstanding quality.

We arrived late and the place was packed but I didn’t mind and set up my gear. Brian the Englishman showed up from out of nowhere (good to see you, my friend) and there were even people from Germany (Lichtenstein?) who had travelled to check out the show.

Clinic went fine. My kind and wonderful band mates had bought me a new dildo in the nasty parts of town, which I felt I needed for the remaining part of the UK tour. Thanks, lads!

Loaded the equipment into the venue. Then I slept some in the van while Björn and Chris hung out with true FK supporters. Chris also socialized with Brian who later on gave him a book about something I don’t remember, but I think it was spiritualism of some kind. (Brian will kick my ass for this. Apparently it was a life-altering reading experience. I’ll ask Chris what it was all about).

Nottingham went well. I dug the ambience of the stage which had a nice low end to it. A birthday boy (who had seen us at Sweden Rock Festival together with his pals) was in the audience so we sang for him while the crowd sang dildo chants for us. Thanks for coming to the show, friends!

Hung out a little and signed CDs, shirts, arms, bellies and other things before loading the gear. Set course for Scotland and Edinburgh. No fast exits lurking this time and we got into bed early morning. Dropped dead and tried to gain some energy for the coming day.

(Cap Man, aka Kilt Man, in Edinburgh)

The city of Edinburgh is beautiful, plain and simple. Its surroundings are not too shabby either with mountains all over the place. A town to have a kick ass weekend in for sure. The venue was also very nice but it had the worst load in I’ve ever experienced. A long, narrow, slippery stone staircase kind of thing which drained you of the fraction of energy you had recovered during the night. Holy shit… Well, since we’re not the complaining type of group (neither are Tortilla Army) we all got ourselves together and got on with it. (The gear has a tendency not to offload itself).

(The diabolic, Scottish load-in)

Chris, Björn and I went for a tasty Indian dinner after sound check and I ate until I almost burst. Took a nap to prepare for the mother of all night drives that we had before us: Edinburgh – London, around 660 kilometres.

Afterwards Chris strolled around and bought himself two kilts which he proudly wore for the rest of the tour (of course without anything underneath, to some photographers’ amusement/horror).

The Scottish were among the loudest I’ve experienced. The audience gave us a lot of energy and we had a real tiptop time on stage. We’d love to be back. Keep on spreading the word and we’ll pack the place next time, OK? Deal.

Tortilla Chris made a sweet barging with some fans: help us out with the gear and we’ll provide you with some freaky shirts. Load out was done in no time. Chris took the first part of the drive. I had a session with Guitar Techniques magazine awaiting me in the morning so I thought it would be great if I could take the second shift behind the wheel.

Stopped for some coffee and then I drove for a bunch of hours. London was coming closer and the drive we all had feared went just okidoki.

(The fab Mik Gaffney)

Reached Guitar Institute a while before the clinic and got geared up for the DVD thing. Made up some grooves and improvised over it for the magazine. Gee, having slept very, very little I haven’t got a clue how it sounded but there’s no use to worry about stuff like this. Either you do it and give what you got, or you don’t. No big issue. Hope it turns out fine. We’ll see.

The clinic was crowded like crazy and I had an awesome time in the newly restored school. Thanks for coming everyone! Very special thanks to my friend Tony Pereyra who doesn’t take no for an answer, called up the school, told them I was in town and set it up.

Did the signing thing before heading for the Purple Turtle, the venue of the evening. We knew it was going to be packed and goddamn it was hot, sold out and virtually no air to breathe. We all were dripping from sweat from the second tune. Totally exhausting but funny as well. It was a busy day (and night), to say the least, so by the end of the set I was completely gone. Had to sit down for a while in the dressing room to cool off, before doing the signing thing, which resulted in arm wrestling for me (not my initiative). Freak Guitar Campers, Swedes, our Blanes friend Sergio (+ buddies. Poor Nuria had some passport trouble and had to stay in Spain) and other familiar faces were in the audience. Thank you so much for packing the Purple Turtle to absurdum. We appreciate it and promise to play a bigger place next time. London kicks buttocks!

(Three amigos in London)

After the concert we headed for Mik’s great place in Dover and a day of well-earned rest. I slept like I never slept before and brother Gaffney woke me up with some coffee in the afternoon. Gee, that was wonderful. Since Mik is working on Proper Music his fine house is filled with all kinds of interesting music and everything I sunk my teeth into Mik said: “Take it! It’s for promotion!” I ended up with a Neil Peart drum DVD, a superb Charlie Christian CD box, a Lionel Hampton DVD and other exciting stuff. Thanks a bunch, dear friend.

(Father and Son, Mik and Finnley)

I also noticed Iron Maiden’s latest release bears a true similarity to our Move booklet. Or how about this:

Chris muttered to himself (he did the Move cover), “Rip off. Rip off”. Heard a tune on The Haunted’s new album was called Guilt Trip, which I found funny).

Mik’s got a lovely family and a very warm home we all enjoyed staying in, relaxing. In the evening Jane, Mik’s wife, and the rest of us went to have delicious Indian dinner. Yummy.

Slept like crazy again, woke up, was served goodie-goodie breakfast, said bye-bye to Jane & Zak, the family’s lovely dog then set course for Hard Rock Café in Leeds.

Stopped by Laney headquarters on our way there and picked up a groovy twin-guitar-gig-bag that I can bring with me in the cabin on flights, provided by Simon. The Laney factory is huge and we were given a grand tour to see how it’s all done. Each single amp is test-played. Roy, another Laney dude, demonstrated the locally invented swooping technique together with a dude of his. (If you play/sweep your pick on one string and fret another you’re swooping. Very interesting…)

(The splendid brother Simon Fraser-Clark and moi outside the Laney headquarters)

(Ahh… Groovy amps waiting for birth)

(Laney anyone?)

When we left Lyndon, Mr. Laney himself, came running to say hi. I am eternally grateful for the continuing support of my friends in the Midlands.

(Back in the days when Ace still had good taste… Or actually before Gene and Paul told him he couldn’t use Splendid Brittish Amplification anymore)

Reached Leeds, loaded in and said howdy-doody to my friend Adam Shell, who nailed the gig gracefully. I couldn’t believe we were going to play as loud as we always do in a place like the Hard Rock Café, with dinner guests and people of all ages. To my huge surprise the entire place closed down for our gig and only ticket holders were given entrance.

Stuffed ourselves with food, had a slick veggie burger of doom. Posed with the people who run the restaurant holding a Hard Rock Café guitar. Asked Tortilla Chris to shoot the gig for us, which he did, crawling around on all fours to get cool angles.

The gig was tiptop. Chris wore his second kilt. No sign of underpants tonight either. We played Highway to Hell and overall it was very loose and relaxed.

Signed all we could afterwards while Mik was selling merchandise to left and right. A terrific night indeed. At the risk of sounding repetitive: thank you, fine people of Leeds! We’ll be back for sure.

Next up was Brighton, the last gig before going home and start preparing for the upcoming Russian tour. We struggled to get the gear and backdrop in place on the tiny stage but managed to pull it off in a semi-satisfying manner. Had a stroll around the nice city and bought some gifts for Camilla at home. A rabbit book among other things. (We took over a neighbour’s rabbit. He’s a friendly creature by the name of Stampe. So now I got three crazy cats, one monstrous French dog, a dear fiancé and a rabbit…) Found a great David Cronenberg book for myself I didn’t have. I’ve seen it before but only in French and as some of you know, this is not my strongest language to speak or read, although I adore the sound of it.

Fell asleep in the bus, woke up and had a beefy veggie meal with Bjorn and Chris before preparing for the concert.

Noticed Freak Guitar Camper Arthur in the audience (there is always a Freak Guitar Camper everywhere I go. We are one, big, twisted string-bending family! I am in Germany as I write this and yesterday I met no less than four campers in Europe’s biggest music store, Musik Produktiv close to Osnabrück). There was also a dude who had made a cow tattoo. There are becoming quite an impressive bunch around the world that wear Freak Kitchen tattoos.

Greeted as many as we could afterwards before packing everything together. Hugged everyone in the touring party goodbye and thanked Tortilla Army for the time together and everything they had done to make it happen. We’d be happy to do it again, anytime!

(Freak Kitchen and the great Tortilla Army)

UK, we love you sincerely and we’ll be back as soon as we can. This is only the beginning. Spread the freaky gospel. You’ll hear from us again, that’s a promise.

Got in the car and drove for Dover and the ferry to Calais. Made the ferry and I passed out on a couch during the time it took to sail over the English Channel. Took a deep breath once in France and set course for Sweden, which felt quite remote at that time, I tell you. We ended up in Brussels morning traffic from hell but after that things went alright. My van showed close to 1900 kilometres before I put the key in my door home in the woods. A personal record, driving straight. But damn, we made it. Björn and Chris are the least bullshit persons I know. We all bite the bullet and realize what has to be done and do it. No complaining and whining back and forth. Shut up and drive your car.

Took off for Russia a little more than a week after the UK return. Managed to have a birthday and get fever in between (I am never sick, knock on wood, more than at most once a year so I guess this was the 2006 one). Got well in no time and packed the bags again. Flew with the guys (and Camilla who joined us on the trip) from Copenhagen to Moscow.

(Our Russian friend Ivan and his new Eddie Van Halen T-shirt)

In the Russian capitol we were met by Ivan and Slava from Avalon, the company responsible for the tour and Laney distributor. I had loads of trouble before departure because I had changed my passport and therefore passport number since we got our official invitations. This caused a mess at the embassy and I had to visit the Swedish police and get papers that stated I really was who I claimed to be. It worked out in the end.

We stuffed our gear into a van and drove through Moscow to the Music Moscow fair where we had some signing to do in the Avalon booth. To my great surprise there were a whole gang of die-hard Kitchen Freaks awaiting us. One guy even had a copy of Swedish magazine Fuzz with yours truly on the cover. We signed CDs, brochures and other things around + posed like crazy until everyone was happy. Bumblefoot drummer Dennis Leeflang showed up with his Russian girlfriend. Good to see you, Dennis.

A swell dinner was eaten before hanging out a little bit at the Avalon office. We were booked for a night-train that would take us to the Chuvash republic, not super-far from Kazakstan. My God, that was by far the coolest train I ever set foot on. Built in the 1920’s with golden curtains and shaky as hell BUT very, very cosy (and still working!) We pushed all our stuff in and were served great tea and buns. It was hard not to think of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the orient express. The only thing that wasn’t über-groovy was the toilet. Since the train was rocky like crazy, male persons standing up would have a hard time getting the piss where it should resulting in a pool of urine on the floor. Sitting down was not an option.

Ivan, as the true linguist he is, picked up a book in Swedish I was reading and started to fire away. We were laughing like crazy. The thing is, Ivan doesn’t speak a word Swedish, but since he’s good with words his reading was impeccable. We couldn’t believe it. Fine train entertainment.

Got to Cheboksary in the morning and were driven to the hotel, where we stayed for a good chunk of our Russian stay. The hotel was fine and they had this Irish pub that served Italian food called Molly Malone, where we had breakfast everyday as well as many other meals.

(Michail, where are you?)

The first gig was in a big hall (with Lenin looking at us in the backstage area). The Russian kids went nuts, dancing and shouting like insane, to our music, although they didn’t get a word of my mumbo jumbo in between songs, which wasn’t a great loss anyway. Chris had heard Russian kids don’t sing but decided to prove this wrong. And you bet he got everyone singing in Razor Flowers, to Ivan and Slava’s amazement.

(Get us a bigger Laney logo, anyone!)

Had a good time on stage and the crowd’s response was loud so I think they had a fine moment as well. Same procedure as after every gig: signing all we can, shaking people’s hands and posing for photos. Something we find extremely important to do and hope we can continue to do in the future, even if the band grows for every day. Did a TV interview after the show, took another look at Lenin before heading for Molly Malone where we were doing a second gig the same evening.

This super-tiny club/bar gig was beyond loose. We slipped into all kinds of tunes and all of a sudden this local politician comes riding a motorbike into the club and parks it in front of the stage. I thought I was going to die of laughter. What hell was this? A surreal hallucination? Chris didn’t miss the opportunity after the concert to pose like crazy on the bike (he’s riding Harleys in his free time).

There were a whole gang of freak friends who came all the way from Samara, a city south-east of Cheboksary. A looooong ride to check out the show. When one of our later shows was cancelled (due to someone coughing up lots of doe to book a battle of DJs instead. Business as usual) the Samara guys and gals managed to find a venue for us to come and play, but unfortunately we had made other plans and departure from Moscow to Sweden was getting closer. We’ll be there next time, OK? Thanks for trying!

(Cheboksary Fire Party)

Björn and Chris partied with the people while I, in my ever so boring style, grabbed a beer and went to my room.

Did a clinic the previous day in the same venue as the first concert. Dedicated players from near and far came to listen to Swedish noise and we had a nice time together. Ivan translated my bull the best he could. Grateful for your presence fellow guitar friends.

Had a couple of free days where we strolled around in the city of Cheboksary, took a closer look at Volga (which is a heavily polluted river nowadays), had tiptop Ukraine dinner, went to the Avalon store and put my greasy fingers on their acoustic guitars, did another TV interview, this time in a wax cabinet, discovered the most exquisite feta cheese we ever tasted, wore stupid wigs at a Mexican place and lots more.

(The many faces of brother Chris:)

The third gig was in the city of Novocheboksarsk, in another big hall. Had a little trouble with one of my guitars, they suffer from intense travelling, but other than that the gig went fine and the kids were nuts again, to our amusement.

Signed all we could afterwards in the lobby of the venue. Avalon had put together lots of nice posters and flyers and these were given away with our permanent marker pen names on it. Thanks for coming, people of Novocheboksarsk!

Chris had a cool invitation by the same politician/motor-cycle guy that showed up at Molly Malone. He was also practising military martial arts, which Chris is interested in. Our dear bass player got his training gear and went for a serious fighting/training ride with people who don’t take shit. I’ll let Chris tell you about with his own words. (Coming soon. Chris is writing like crazy for the moment. Stay tuned)

(Ukraine dinner)

(Wax cabinet TV-interview)

Since the last gig had been cancelled we decided to go back to Moscow a day before to check out the gigantic city. We were driven by Slava and his friend to a nearby city where we jumped on a similar train as the one we got to the Chuvash republic with. Our trusty Ivan escorted us to Moscow. We’d be completely lost without him.

(A whiter shade of grey. Moscow seen from the hotel )

Had a Russian beer before passing out in the train. Woke up in Moscow and were picked up by a friend of Slava’s who took us to the gigantic hotel complex by the name Delta, Gamma and Beta. (Each skyscraper had a different name).

Had breakfast before going for sightseeing. Moscow made me ambivalent in all its grandness: big, dirty, impressive, poor, rich, luxurious and grey. Every subway station is like a piece of art and completely without any kind of graffiti. I remember my Dad telling me this about Moscow subways when I was a kid.

There are, needless to say, tons of things to see but the city is also quite harsh in many ways: three-legged dogs, old people treated like garbage. Every statue includes weapons and you truly feel the power behind the Kremlin walls. I find it strange that you can buy Matryoshka dolls with Lenin, Stalin and Putin on (even with Gene Simmons! Ah, the Western decadence…) but nothing with Gorbatjov or Jeltsin (the latter may more understandable). It’s as if these guys are erased from history. (Who wants a Stalin Matryoshka doll anyway?)

The Red Square was of course stunning. It was weird to think Lenin was resting mummified next to you. We strolled around St. Basil’s Cathedral (built by Ivan the Terrible). In desperate need for some colour and Western decadence we entered a super-slick upper class café with the best hot chocolate you can get on Earth (and most likely the most expensive: around 10 $ per cup). There was a shopping centre for the rich next to it. Christmas decorations were already glittering from the ceiling. Sharon Stone visited the Dior store on the corner, SUVs with tinted windows everywhere and heavily armed guards. Contrasts, contrasts.

(The Kremlin walls)

(Here lies Mr. Lenin)

We went into a souvenir shop and to my great disgust I saw a stuffed wolf you could buy. Fuck. Furious I told Ivan I’d like to shoot the person who shot the stunning animal. Ivan turned to the woman behind the counter and explained my point of view. Way to go, Ivan. Contrasts, contrasts.

Back at the hotel we had Japanese dinner together with Dennis and fiancé. Went to bed pretty early, confused by the day’s twisted scenery. Back in the room I heard female voices screaming, porno-style (totally unnatural and over the top but with true unease in their voices), through the ventilation system. It was obvious a porn flick, at best, was being shot somewhere in the hotel, most likely with underage girls. Björn said he spotted these men wearing leather jackets in the lobby who sent up real young girl after girl to whatever room the ugliness went on. It doesn’t sound like a big deal but when you see this shit going on close to you, it’s everything but funny. The vibe is just sad. Mad I ripped down the ventilation and stuffed a towel into it. Couldn’t stand the sound. Everything but exciting. Back home you wouldn’t hesitate a second to walk up to the front desk and make a monumental fuzz but after much thought I realized, damn it, that it would most likely result in a bullet between my eyes. Of course the staff is totally aware of what is going on but only look the other way… It may even be sanctioned by the hotel to get a piece of the pie. Crap. After a while it stopped, thank God, and I fell asleep.

Ivan showed us the most amazing shopping mall I’ve ever seen the day after (more contrasts). There was so much Christmas paraphernalia I thought I was going to faint from there mere sight. We haven’t got anything like this home. I think it could even stand up to any American mall in all its outrageousness. We loved it.

(The cosy building of KGB…)

(The subway bros)

Bought gifts for the ones at home and walked by the former KGB building were guys like Putin used to work (with what we prefer not to know. The place had a scary atmosphere. No way you can do the daily grind in a place like this and still have your soul intact). Ate a yummy dinner before going back to the hotel by the extremely well-functioning subway. The contrasts, the contrasts. A paradox of gigantic proportions, Russia. At least for a Swedish guy like me.

Left for the airport together with Ivan and a driver who played groovy gypsy music in the van. Hugged our dear Ivan Skryagin and thanked him for being a beyond splendid guide/road manager/compadre/translator and whatnot. You da man, Mr. Skryagin!

(Just got these photos from Ivan. Molly Malone made this Wall-of-Fame after our visit. Nice)

In Copenhagen we missed our connecting flight but it didn’t do a thing. We were just glad to soon be home after much travelling. Spent the time by eating a boring dinner, much to Chris’ annoyance (pasta and fat basically). I wrote an article on my pocket pc phone and talked to Jonas before boarding for Sweden. Mission completed and everyone made it alive. A little rest before Norway and a concert in Oslo.

Gothenburg, dear Gothenburg, there you were. Said bye-bye to Björn and Chris then drove to Gleis, my mother-in-law, to pick up Maya, my beloved dog-creature.

Oslo was a lot of fun. Had the cheesiest clinic in a long time (sorry about dirty mouth and lower body region hernia jokes). I had a really great time. Plenty of people showed up for the guitar insanities and even more for the gig. Getting from Gothenburg to Oslo is only around 300 kilometres and nowadays this feels like you haven’t even warmed up the car before you reach your destination. We are happy to say we’ll play a bunch of festivals in Norway next summer, thanks to our new Norwegian booker På Scenen and our friend Jan-Erik Salvesen there. Tiptop.

Norwegian pals (Per Sviggum, good to see you!) and several Swedes (Niklas, Kumla-dude) came to check out the show. Like the clinic the concert was very loose but that’s how we like it. Thank you for packing Amplifier, dear neighbours!

The day after we simply drove back to Gothenburg, nice and easy.

Right now I am on my way from Berlin from Frankfurt. Doing this Laney promotional clinic tour and having a ball so. Yesterday I was here in Frankfurt and the day before in Köln. The day before my freaky playing was heard in Ibbenbüren. Gee, those Germans have enormous music stores. Glad so many people come to check it out. Appreciate it a lot. Two seminars to go before flying home and…. (this is beyond exciting) finally, finally, finally sit down in my beloved living room, light up a fire, open a swell bottle of wine, turn on season on five of 24, released after tons of delays on DVD. Yes! I know most of you 24-fans have already seen it either on TV or downloaded it (Björn?) This is not for me. I want the box and I believe some things are worth waiting for. But that’s just me. Camilla, brother Petrus and I have these kick ass weekends, as we call them. An orgy in good food, snacks, tasty liquor, long walks where we discuss the unfolding plot and generally have a wonderful time. These weekends are very much a reward for working hard and turning yourself into a zombie every now and then with lack of sleep and long travels. The 24 box is already waiting for me at home. Petrus went out and bought it the day of the release. And yes, we have ordered tons of merchandise from the fan site for this season as well (I believe I wrote about this in an earlier part of the Cooking blog). The David Palmer for President T-shirt is now in my possession. So are the 24- and CTU glasses, the 24 magazine, the Jack is Back shirts and more. Bloody hell, we are three hopeless nerds. Still, it’s a heck of good time and I can’t wait for it. Feel like a child on Christmas. It also helps to balance the negative things you sometime experience flying around Tellus. When you go on vacation it is not the same thing as being a touring musician, even if you happen to visit the same place. We get to see the real deal quite often, how people actually live and the life behind all the tourist façade. This is both good and bad, but there is never a way back. You are not being easily fooled if you happen to actually go on a real vacation. I hope I don’t sound too cynical. I have the best job imaginable and thank life itself everyday I wake up. Meeting friends who share the same problems, joy, thoughts on stuff and go crazy together to home-brewed, Scandinavian pagan music. But I feel it is time to recharge the batteries a little bit. None of us are worn out in any way. It’s this strong urge to create new songs, to record, to see what’s hiding behind the corner, to explore and invent. I need a break where I stay home and simply let it flow out of me. Between Russia and Oslo I went down in my basement and installed a lot of new gear I have bought a while back and only from fooling around with it, so many ideas came flying and I love it, I love it.

(To my utmost surprise I discovered Jimi had an even larger head than yours truly!)

The plan is to work in peace and without any outside pressure for as long as we feel like it and then put it all out (what comes first, I am not sure) and go back on the road with a fresh spirit! Deal? OK.

(Reinhart lost in Ikea)

Hmm, I don’t seem to be able to stop writing this once I got started (it was a slow start, yes I admit). Now Reinhardt, my excellent driver here in Germany (and a very funny guy), and I sit in a diabolic Berlin traffic jam trying to make it to a clinic tonight close to the Polish border, in former East Germany and the city of Neubrandenburg. But since we listen to Sylvain Luc and Biréli Lagrène’s absolutely over-awesome Duets, a CD I lost in the theft in Madrid last year but now managed to buy again, everything is fine. It is almost impossible not feel cool listening to these gentlemen, simply oozing good vibes through the car speakers. It’s rainy as hell, my favourite weather. I am sure we’ll make it in time, otherwise I only will have to play faster to keep up (or what was it the inner sleeve of an early Chris Impelliteri album said: “I hereby promise in the future, my guitar solos will only get faster” or something like that? Oh well…)

(Musik Produktiv)

Yesterday I went shopping nuts in Cologne. My second driver here, George, showed me this gigantic CD store with the Selection of Doom. Anything I could think of, it was there to pick up. I bought the two first Nina Hagen albums, the instrumental one above, Meshuggah’s re-release of Nothing (which sounded stunning with new guitars), Chaosphere, Destroy, Erase, Improve, all albums lost, Stravinsky’s History of a Soldier, five albums with selected Bela Bartok symphonic works, the latest Prince CD 3121, Howard Shore’s soundtrack to the Cronenberg movie The Fly, a release I have looking for forever (about to become an opera soon, with libretto by David Cronenberg together with Shore’s beautiful score), Wilhelm Stenhammar, a late Swedish composer, Christmas with the Rat Pack (Martin, Sinatra, Davis junior). Corny as I am, I am the Man in the house and I fully enjoy having a cognac while decorating the Christmas tree, with old, feel-good-stuff like Dean Martin in the CD-player. That’s how I get my Christmas spirit.

(The fine people of Köln)

Anyway, it was a satisfying visit indeed (George bought himself the two Freak Guitar albums and the first two Nina Hagen CDs as well. Good boy, George). My guide knew the manager of the place real well and we got the pile of discs cheap as heck. Thanks a bunch!

Did a clinic in Frankfurt in the evening and more campers came to check it out (Kai, Florian, Daniel), Ralph Fricke and my Schöndorf Gitarrentage friends among others. There were lots of questions, harmonics, odd time approaches, e t c, which I tried to answer in my usual unfocused manner, sliding into completely different topics all the time. Had fun! Thank you people. See you at the Frankfurt Messe late March. I’ll be in the Laney booth, as usual.

(Yeah, the Caparison disease is spreading!)

Afterwards Ralph and I hung out at my hotel for a beer and talked about this and that.

I think the Cooking blog is about to come to its final chapter after the Storan concerts. The concerts sort of symbolize the end of the Organic tour (we started in Gothenburg in May 2005 when Organic was new). Time to move on which means exactly nothing at all, only you will read the blogs next year under a different name… Dramatic to the bone, huh? Will sum things up on the four last clinics for 2006 the week after Storan and hope all this will on the site by mid-December.

(Young Kitchen Freaks!)

A little more about the download album I recently put together for release soon, Freak Guitar – Growing Your Own Moustache Vol. 1. From e-mails and almost at every clinic I have guys (and a few gals) walking up to me asking where they can get the sometimes tricky backing tracks to improve their playing. Said and done (well, I planned to do this way earlier, but… busy boy and all that), after listening through all the Freak Guitar Camp practice CDs I found a solid bunch of tracks that cover a lot of different techniques. (This also gives me a potent kick in the butt to write everything completely new for next year’s camp. Refreshing! Catharsis!) The entire thing doesn’t fit on a single CD if you want to burn it out so I split up the tracks, CD 1 with guitar, CD 2 without. Hope you will like it. Much thanks to Linus “Mr. Gul” Abrahamson who took time out to compress, go through my notation and turn it into PDF-files.

(Note: this is not the next Freak Guitar album in any way, just an overkill of a practice album. I’ve changed the titles to some of the songs if you are Freak Guitar Camper and don’t recognize the names. Have other plans to a couple of those titles).

(My goodness, is that a pretty guitar?! Ah…)

Now we are on our way back to Berlin again. I am about to jump on a plane to Munich and tonight’s final clinic. Had a great time in Neubrandenburg yesterday. Lots of people and lots of fun! Robert Klawonn (four year veteran camper) and Peter Geltat (camper from this year) lurked in the audience. Always good to see you! Thanks to everyone coming!

(My goodness, is that a pretty guitar?! Ah…)

Arrived in Munich without any hassle and am now waiting for my third and final driver, Werner, of this tour. One clinic to go before it’s Kiefer Sutherland weekend (read: 24)! Whhooouuuhouu!

Werner took me nice and easy to Simbach Inn while we listened to Stravinsky in the car stereo (poor Werner, had to sit through my newly purchased albums. Igor rules. Just got fat scores as present from compadre Björn. I love to sit and look at the music while listening to it. Written music is beyond pretty, in my book).

(My goodness, is that a pretty Apple Horn Orange guitar to sign?! Ah…)

(My goodness, is that a pretty Apple Horn HGS guitar to sign?! Ah…)

(My goodness, is that a pretty Apple Horn Sand Stone guitar to sign?! Ah…)

(My goodness, is that the pretty crazy guy who bought them all?! Ah…)

Clinic at Simbach Inn went fine. The room was overcrowded and some guys and gals had to stand on the outside. Daniel Rickler and Thomas Decker, two campers, showed up. Thomas, crazy guy as he is, had bought himself no less than three (!) Apple Horn guitars: a Sand Stone, an Orange and the latest model, the black HGS. Gee… Signed them all with Thomas’ golden pen. Nice. Thank you for packing the place, German friends. (Sorry I encouraged you to pee in the Steinway. I don’t know what’s wrong with me…)

Werner took me to Nuremberg where I checked into the largest hotel room I have ever been to. Four beds in something that reminded me of a hangar. Too bad I only was staying three hours.

Got up darn early, got a cab, got on an airplane to Amsterdam, got me some breakfast in the KLM Crown lounge, got on the plane home to Gothenburg and that was it! Clinic tour completed! Loved it! Will be back soon again! See you in Frankfurt. You all kick butt. Vielen dank, guys and gals.

(Evening one, Friday the 1st of December)

(Evening two, Saturday the 2nd of December)

The kick ass weekend was overwhelming. It was sooo good to see Jack Bauer go nuts again and relax a little bit. Still have eight episodes to go… Ahh…

Now I am sitting in a hotel room in the city of Katrineholm, Sweden, and got three more clinics to do before the Christmas vacation of all Christmas vacations will take place. Listening to Prince’s 3121 and can’t make up my mind if I dig it a lot or think it’s crap… Some of it is stunning, some of it I find mediocre. It starts and finishes wonderful. Ah, well, whatever.

(The four string legend)

(You-know-who and Anders Johansson)

Wednesday the 29th I drove for Lund and a double gig with the Art Metal trio. Jonas, Zoltan and I had not played a note together since the New Morning concert in Paris early June. If this was a regular cover gig it wouldn’t be a problem but Jonas’ music is not over-easy to play. You got to know your shit. Can’t fake it. The first gig at the small Bar Express was rocky, but funny. The second one was better (the first audience had to leave for the second bunch to see) but still messy, but what the hell. We had a good time and of course there was a camper in the crowd (Robert-Laban-Allt-e-skit-Nilsson wearing a groovy mandarin T-shirt from the online store). Brothers Anders and Jens Johansson showed up to see us struggle through the songs. The Art Metal concept can mutate into anything, we’ve realized. Anders and Jens are playing on the album (together with the astounding Selvaganesh) but Zoltan is playing live with us, and very well so. The album is soon finished. Jonas has been editing everything together like crazy but we are still waiting for a couple of Jens’ takes before it’ll be mixed. Hope you’re going to like it.

(Zoltan and cell phone break)

(Jens Johansson and a freak)

Drove back straight to Gothenburg after the gig to get some sleep in my own bed and prepare for the Storan concerts. Thank you, Art Metal freaks! You’ll hear more from us soon.

As I sit here typing this there are simply no words to express our gratitude and the monumentally awesome gut feeling we all have after the past weekend and the concerts at Storan. We had such a good time and you were such a lovely, wonderful, stunning, splendid audience (and every other superlative I can think of). Holy shit, it was two amazing nights for us. Sold out to the very last seat (both of them) it was pure magic in the air… Don’t know what to write actually… We loved it and everything went down great (despite our fuck-ups here and there, but we know you don’t mind and it only makes it more alive so who gives a shit?! Goofs will be included in the DVD, that’s a promise). There are almost too many things to say, don’t know where to start. Better thank the people involved. Lasse, Robin, Håkan, Daniel, Janne, Håkan (again), Jesper, Nicola, Björn, Jenny, Anders, Patrik, Fredrik, Lars, Hans-Åke, Shara and everyone else that helped us out BUT most of all: YOU! (We’ll simply have to book three nights next Christmas).

Damn, I’ll post tons of photos here instead. Feel corny writing about this. (Photo credits to Patrik Hellström, Patrik Ek and Johan Falk).

(Our fantastic film crew)

(My new great guitar tech and Freak Guitar Camp veteran, Fredrik Eriksson)

(My dear buddy Lars, who is also a master of selling merchandise)

(The splendid Björn, providing us with a groovy light show)

(Cow disease at Storan)

(The rig)

(The amps and cabs…)

Before I sign off I, on the behalf of the band, really would like to thank our precious HTML Dude, a.k.a Noak Eldh, who spent some serious time on his butt programming the online store (still working on it often to make it even more groovy). We wouldn’t survive without you, brother. You know we are grateful (an understatement).

(The one and only HTML dude)

People, this is the final chapter of the Cooking blog and the Storan gigs were the end of the Organic tour. 2007 will be a working year for us with the recording of new music, the live DVD and lots of other things. (There will be occasional concerts here and there but the heavy touring will take place after the next release).
Thank you for your continuing support, thank you for reading, spread the word, stay freaky. This is only the beginning! Viking hugs to all of you. Merry Christmas and Happy New Freaky Year!

IA