Column: A Postcard Life #4
My first exposure to Laakso was through my friend Pekka Pörtfors. He used to play a damn fine version of "Long beach" when we were out at parties where there was a guitar lying around. Eventually I checked out the "Long beach EP", but during this stage of my life, I was still quite wrapped up in the world of avant-garde, post-rock inspired hardcore and wasn't immediately blown away. It was intriguing, especially Markus Krunegård's delivery and choice of words, though I still found bands like City of Caterpillar and Envy better companions when walking the streets of Stockholm city.
It was with Pekka again, out on one of our numerous visits to his hometown of Mariehamn, Åland, that I was exposed to Laakso again. I'd woken up early as the sun spilled through the curtains into the guest room. We had been out drinking quite heavily the night before and I saw "I miss you, I'm pregnant" sitting on the table in his upstairs den area as I tried to creep quietly over his noisy floorboards to get a glass of water. I grabbed the CD and my cigarettes, and went outside to smoke on Pekka's father's steps. It was late spring and the Scandinavian weather was just starting to free itself of the dismal, damp grey that always seems to come for at least a month or so after the Great Thaw. There were still a few cold teeth in the air, but it was pleasant, especially when trying to shake the ghostly reminders of the previous night's bar tab still present in my blood.
My first impressions of "I miss you, I'm pregnant" were surprisingly energetic, especially as "Fight the fight" slipped into "Aussie girl". I'd seen favorable reviews of the album in Swedish music magazines, and two extremely complimentary ones in Aftonbladet and SvD, but hadn't known what to make of their words, chiefly because I had merely enjoyed the "Long Beach EP", and had not been truly enamored or captivated by it. It was obvious in the craftsmanship, layering, and delivery of the first few compositions how far the band had come between the two recordings. Not to be dismissive of the earlier effort at all, but songs like "Clear", "Demon", and the closer "Laakso" affected me far more deeply than most of the tracks off the "Long beach EP" had. I appreciate the EP far more now than I did then, but it is still easily eclipsed by Laakso's first full-length recording (and the EP length single for "Aussie girl").
Right before I returned to the United States in 2005, Pekka took me to see Laakso at the Popaganda Festival held on Stockholm University's grounds. We'd both been drinking, and my thoughts were very much wrapped up with a young lady who was at the festival with us, but all of this slipped away when the band started playing. The drink may have aided in my reaction, but I was undeniably smitten when the show was over. It took me a while to adjust. Night had been falling during the concert, the light summer's breeze weighted a little heavier by the cold, though I hadn't noticed any of this during the show. All of the sudden I wished I'd had a light jacket or a sweater and remembered the girl my thoughts had been so consumed with.
I wouldn't hear the recorded versions of the songs Laakso had played from "My gods" at Popaganda until my return to the United States. My current roommate Alan put on the record one day towards the end of 2005 as we were driving to do errands. I ordered the record as soon as we got home and cursed myself for having somehow forgotten about it during the turbulent last few months I spend in Stockholm, and the difficult readjustment period I floundered in upon my return to America. For whatever reason, "My gods" dulled the strangeness of being back in the United States for the first time in a decade without a return flight to Europe.
Since then, there have been very few mix CDs I've made for friends that haven't had at least one Laakso song on them. Anytime a good friend asked me to suggest a band for them to check out, I recommended checking out "My gods" or "I miss you, I'm pregnant". Despite all of this, very few of my companions here in the United States have been overwhelmed by Laakso, a phenomenon I can't quite fathom. For a while I was quite content to let things be - Laakso were a secret that only a few of us were in on, and there was something nice about that. But a band like this shouldn't have been kept underground for so long.
The newest effort, "Mother, am I good looking?" may not have the consistency of the previous two albums, but its highs are exceptional. "Worst case scenario" and "Norrköping" are two of the best songs Laakso have ever written, and there are plenty of other champions on the record - "Dancing queen" having become one of my favorite pre-party songs. Fellow It's A Trap! writer Matt Giordano and I thought "Mother..." might be the record to break Laakso on this side of the Atlantic. So far our prediction has been proved premature... a shame, really.
There will be days when everything in your record collection will temporarily lose its usual luster - it happens to us all, no matter how fine the selection may be - and you'll condemn the present condition of contemporary music as you search in vain for something new to fill your speakers and headphones. As Pekka did for me years ago, may I suggest filling those empty, disillusioned moments with Laakso? There have been very few bands that have affected me quite as deeply as have the works of these outlandish upstarts. Their albums don't grow old or monotonous, nor does the edge dull with the passage of time. Laakso have a distinctly original sound which Krunegård's lyrics and eccentric tone elevate to levels that few bands have the ability to reach. It doesn't even really matter which album you decide to start with, all of them are superb and unique, and just different enough from the others to remain well out of their shadows.
With so many bands hyped into the upper echelons of indie stardom, I can't quite grasp how Laakso have remained nothing more than a soft whisper in North America. Oh well... life is strange. It wouldn't be worth living if it wasn't.
Until next time,
I remain,
/Lars Garvey Laing-Peterson