Two Go
Plaid in Ibiza
Norwegian
acoustic duo Kings of Convenience astounded the
guitar wielding community earlier this year with their delicately
beautiful debut album "Quiet is the New Loud", proving that you don;t
need a single amp to calmly electrify an audience. They have since
built a reputation whose scariest element is a slightly intimidating
knowledge of geography. So what the hell are they doing in Ibiza? Becky
Hogge investigate (NB: all quotes to be read in bemused Scandinavian
accent).
The first
conversation I have with Eirik Glambek Bae, one half of
acoustic duo Kings of Convenience, is about spear fishing. Apparently
Eirik's brother has devoted his leisure time for many years now to
hunting a Norwegian fish whose mouth can expand to such a size that it
is able to swallow a human leg. Eirik proceeds to do an impression of
this fish, which makes his impossibly beautiful girlfriend (who, when
she's not following her internationally acclaimed musician lover around
Europe, is studying to become a doctor) burst into impossibly beautiful
giggles. Talk slowly turns to the beams on the ceiling of their hired
Ibizan villa - are these original, or are they a more modern
interpretation of the Spanish style? Which begs the further question -
what is this gentle, articulate Norwegian doing in the middle of the
world's Mecca for dalliance and debauchery, and more importantly, for
electronic music?
After the
highly successful release of their debut album "Quiet is
the New Loud", wherein bespectacled broadsheet music reviewers who gave
up writing about electronica when they had their first child enthuse
about the New Acoustic Movement (or, enchantingly, NAM) and tell us
that we'll all be using our drum machines as coffee tables before long,
Kins of Convenience are releasing a remix album entitled "King's of
Convenience versus...". The release includes work by fellow Vikings
Royksopp, Erot and Evil Tordivel, as well as Mancunian beat-jugglers
Alfie, Andy Votel, Riton and Bamboo Soul. And the outcome makes those
harbingers of hush look, well, a little silly. As Eirik puts it later
"It's not a dance record, but it kind of appeals more to people who
need beats a rhythm and I suppose that's the logic behind us coming
here."
To
understand just how ridiculous Kings of Convenience look in
Ibiza, it is necessary to meet Erlend Oye, all six-foot-four of him,
sprouting brown nylon trousers, red NHS specs and matching bright red
hair. What he lacks in Eirik's studiousness, he makes up for in
grinning gregarity, and when, later on, I'm trying to spot him on he
crowded dancefloor of Pacha, I'm reminded of playing Where's Wally.
Erlend, unlike, Eirik, wants to be a star, yet in moments of silence
his bashfulness is revealed as he circles his eyes across at you. When
he finally takes off his trousers to go swimming he exposes a pair of
off-white briefs, only exchanging them for a pair of H&M trunks
("They're a very good shop, don;t you think - of course they're
Scandinavian...") as an afterthought, once the cameras start rolling.
Eirik and
Erlend met at a Norwegian inter-schools geography
competition, aged eleven. The both live in the town of Bergen, on the
coast of the North Sea about 200 miles west of Oslo. This is also the
home of the other Norwegian artists who worked on "Versus..." - Erlend
puts the productivity of the area down to its inhabitants' honesty and
willingness to accept criticism. The Royksopp remix is possibly the
most exciting on the album - in it the guitar track is transformed from
the sub-arctic crispness of the original into the kind of echoey
Baleria that might reserve it a prime spot in Jon Sa Trincha's record
box.
Erlend
jokes: "They are the new Neptunes, the new Men at Work (I
think he means Masters). They've had various different names but as
Royksopp this is when they are definitely going to come out and make
themselves known to the world. I just think they're such talented
producers - not just as a band - they understand so many aspects of
what they're doing. Eirik agrees "Yeah, they've done a very good job,
they've been very thorough. They were given the parts of the recording,
all the tracks, and they took the guitar track, cut it into pieces, and
put it together again." Worth a mention too is the funky collaboration
with Tore Kroknes, aka DJ Erot, before his tragic death two months ago.
Says Eirik "I think if he were still alive we would have, or I would
have, continued doing other things with him. That was a very fruitful
collaboration."
The picture
of acoustic musicians working closely with electronic
artists reflects the scene which Erlend stumbled upon back in early
1999 whilst in Manchester. It was here he met Alfie, who do a cover of
the Kings' track "Failure" on the album. "Alfie is a band that really
helped us get where we are today." Through Alfie they were introduced
to Andy Votel and Badly Drawn Boy. So why didn't they sign to Twisted
Nerve? "They're a very cool label, they have a lot of music. But we
realised that these were two people who in the future would have a lot
to do because their own careers were going to take off, and then they
wouldn't really be the people who run the label. Then it didn't appeal
so much anymore." Votel also features on the album, remixing "Winning a
Battle, Losing the War" with rhythmic piano and wistful clarinet tracks
which complement and elate the original like the perfect birthday
present.
The Kings
play two acoustic gigs whilst we're out in Ibiza, one at
the hippy market, Las Dalias, another at Kumharas, a sunset bar on the
edge of San Antonio Bay. The first gig doesn't go down too well - it
seems that the style of the Kings is a little too unscrambled and down
to earth for Ibiza's old hippies, though one gentleman is seen with his
eyes rolled back in his head chanting the words to "I Don;t Know What I
Can Save You From" an hour after the performance. By comparison, the
second gig goes very well, and the crowd at Kumharas even appreciates
the Norwegian cover Erlend lifts from one of his favourite bands,
Delillo. Afterwards Eirik drives us tentatively through the torrential
rain to Cream at Amnesia (sub-Arctic introspection isn't the only thing
the Kings have brought with them from drizzly Bergen, it rains nearly
all the time we are on the island). But, although Erlend gets into the
spirit of things, eagerly leaping onto the podium and enjoying some
Shakin' Stevens-style knee dancing, Eirik is not so keen, and leaves as
early as he can citing a sore throat. He explains later "I used to be
really into techno music and hardcore when I was 15. From 1990 to 1992
there was some excellent raves held in these huge barns near Bergen." I
ask him why he stopped going. "It all got too commercial. I guess Cream
reminded me of that". Well...who'd have thought it? "Kings of
Convenience versus..." is out on October 22 on Source.
Becky
Hogge
Published
in Seven Magazine, September 2001