A black quickie!

I saw this box in my local record store. "The price for best box design goes to..."

 Yes, that is a DVD standing next to it. Yes, this is enormous. Yes, it cost ridiculously much. It's (yet another) box with the Ozzy years compiled. It's metal history and if I had the money, I would have purchased it.

In the upcoming days there will be several posts with Korean pop. After having seen the lavish details and designs they put on their standard releases I feel even less inclined to ever buy an ordinary jewel-case CD again.

Lykke Li and the correct pronunciation of Paris

Of all the stuff released during my time at EMI Lykke Li's debut, Youth Novels, was the most exciting. There was something unique to her, her mixture of vulnerability, femininity and toughness stood out. It was clear she was a future star in the making. And she played superb liveshows where her confidence and control grew stronger and stronger for each time I saw her. Something that reflects on her latest single, in a glorious (but not exactly photofriendly) reflecting silver sleeve.

Thanks to being a "randomly" chosen winner of a Facebook contest the very first mail that arrived to my new address was a brand new, shiny 7". There are worse ways to inaugurate a new mail box, no? The single is great because it works as a single, revealing two very different sides of Lykke Li. The two tracks complements each other, each would be lesser on its own. Get Some, the A-side, is a take-no-prisoners declaration of sexual control, driven by heavy percussion and broken surf guitars. But the B-side Paris Blues is a sublime track filled with heartache and showcases just how much Lykke Li's voice developed in the last years. And she pronounces Paris in the French way (I got a francophile streak), making me wish for a version sung in French.

Get Some got a good hypnotic video too. Hard to imagine it's the same woman who nervously presented her album all those years ago. Then, shy indie girl. Now menacing cult leader on a mission to capture men. Progress?

Music? Vinyls? Life?

I don't quite know what this blog will be about yet. Music, for sure. But these days my music consumption is 98% digital. Yet I keep buying music, mostly vinyls. I like the feel of the vinyl, the sound too, but mostly it's the feel. A physical connection to the music, being able to see the grooves. The recent trend of vinyl + digital download in a package is heaven sent. I also love a really good cover (or a really bad one, like the one below). So I guess this blog will showcase recent purchases, fun special editions, music memorabilia and that kind of stuff. It will be in English, because most of the few people whom I know will actually read this doesn't speak Swedish.

Lets start with a bang. This is the cover to Art Boys Collection's Stoned Wall. Their one and only album from 1972, recently reissued in white vinyl. It is amazing because everything is wrong about it.



The band name, Art Boys Collection, falls flat. The band mixes Beatles influences with some prog rock, but the name sounds like a C-grade fashion brand.
The album name, Stoned Wall. What does that even mean? A stone wall? A wall that got a lot of stones thrown at it? A wall that smoked weed and is now floating in space?
And don't get me started on the geishas with helium breasts and hairdos bigger than their waists...
Then all of this is wrapped in a pink border?!?!
But put each stupid, horrid decision together and we have an album cover of epic badness. Almost worthy of framing. I love it. Two wrongs doesn't a right make, but around 20 wrongs sure does!

Did I mention the band was Austrian? Because that's the only reasonable explanation I can come up with. Let me quote the booklet: "[Lead vocalist Egger] became one of the pioneers of Austrian Alpine Rock and wrote the 1st Alpine Rock Opera ever". So we know who to blame now, then?

But in the end it's all about the music. So how is it? Pretty decent, actually. All My Life could've been a huge hit if recorded by any chirpy upbeat 60s band. And here's a track that takes the template of George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" and puts it through a psychedelic filter.