Useless

Sometimes I get these insane urges for things that I know I really don't need, if I just give it a bit of thought. Lately, and not surprisingly, I've fallen in love with these "semi-acoustic" hollow-bodied electric guitars, and I have a certain Mr. Gore to blame, all though I've always liked these kind of guitars. Not really sure why. I sort of own an Ibanez acoustic guitar, which has a really nice sound to it when it's tuned properly, but the strings are probably older than me, and I have incredibly and annoyingly short fingers, making acoustics sort of annoying to play. It'd probably be easy if I just had the patience, but I seldom do. Electric guitars have narrow necks, making them easier to play, but some of them just look small and plucky. The hollow body ones just look brilliant, all big and retro-looking, and they have really nice sounds, I love them, and would gladly have one on my wall just to look at it. Which would probably be a shame.

I come from a musical family, my dad can play piano/keyboards, guitars and accordians, even thought he doesn't read notes at all, my mum played the paino, my sister has played both a piano and a guitar, and so do I, to a certain exstent. I actually played classical piano for 7 years at a music school, but after playing the theme from Schindlers List in my mum's burial I just couldn't go near one for years. At school we learned your basic 5 guitar chords, and I got a mate to teach me to read tabulatures, and for a while I plinked and plonked away at the Ibanez for hours, a hobby I've sort of given up on the last few years, sadly. But I'm really good with Green Day's "Time of your life".

Being able to play music is a thing I miss, and from time to time I bench down in front of the piano and play some of the few classical songs I still remember (it's fantastic how some songs can still be in your fingers after you haven't touched an instrument for years), like Für Elise. Or like now, when I'm totally hung up on a band, I search up chords and tabs, find those I can actually manage to play, or the ones I'm hell bent on learning, and I play until my fingers are sore or bleeding. For a while I played so much I actually developed calluses. I miss those calluses, they're really helpful.

Anyway, my point was: I want a guitar. Specifically, a hollow-body, and even more specifially, a Gretsch, because they just look wicked. The one on the picture is the Anniversary which sort of costs a lot, for me anyway, but I'd settle for a Electromatic anyday. Which still costs about 1100 euros. And that's before I've even bought an amp. Seems like a Gretsch is something that'll be on my wish list for a while, under the "utterly useless to me, but I still want one"-category. Why? Well, so I can plonk away on it when the urge arises. The rest of the time I'll use it as an art piece on my wall.

Weird blokes

Why do I always get caught up on the weirdest blokes... But they make me laugh myself to tears, and they look like they're having a lot of fun. What I wouldn't give to be an assistant or something for these guys. Or a fly on the wall.

The bananas clip
Yes, we have no bananas!




Do you trust me?
"I'm not playin' any more unless someone licks my blood..."




Family Guy
Dave and Martin impersonating Stewie from Family Guy.



The fine print: Filmed by Andy Fletcher, and shamelessly stolen off depechemode.com, I'll admit.

Dumbing down...?

I was just checking the departure times on the flights I booked between Torp and London, and was rather stumped. The flight from Torp to London took 55 minutes according to the times, and the flight back took nearly 3 hours. And I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. Had I ended up on some lay-over flight? No, same thing on all flights, and it didn't say anything about lay-overs. I mentioned this to my cousin, after having thought about it for a while, mind you, at which she promptly answered: "Uhm. Different time zones?" Of course, she was right. I sort of "gain" an hour on my way there, and "loose" one on the way back. Now I'm scared for myself.


Oh, and Dave/Ibanez pwnz j00 all. There, I said it.

Now that's commitment

Firstly, allow me to just take a moment to cheer uncontrollably and bounce wildly around with unbridled glee and happiness.

AND - A - WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Now that that's out of my system, I'll return to my calm, composed, eloquent and reflected self.... No, I'm not, I'm still bouncing around. Figuratively speaking, anyway, a cancer hospital at midnight isn't a place you bounce happily around in anyway. What is the cause for this outburst of joy and excitement, you ask? Well, I've turned slightly insane. Or just very impulsive. I have a personality disorder, we do that, we have impulse control issues. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking with it!

"What I've done this time?" Well, I sort of booked flight tickets. To London. All alone. In December. But it was so cheap! €36 for a round trip ticket from Oslo to London and back. Allright, I have to fly from Torp, granted, and land at Stanstead, but really, who cares, I'll drive to Torp and hop on a train at Stanstead to central London, it'll be fine. I've been thinking about this for a few weeks now, going to London. I've never been to England, let alone London, except when I had a 12 hour lay-over at Heathrow on my way home from Malta. For a girl who writes more English than Norwegian, love British humor and adore Top Gear this is sort of a shame, and should be rectified soon-ish. And now that I actually have some money, I had to seize the opportunity.

"And what will I do in London all alone?" Aah, you see, the thing about travelling alone is that all though it may sound lonely, you don't have to cater to anyones needs but your own. So, after huffing and puffing through London and hopefully finding my hotel (I'll probably stay here) I'm going to try and get to central London to see if I can find Big Ben or something, walk around, stare at people and things, maybe see the London Eye or Madame Tussauds. Hopefully I'll find a brochure or a nice receptionist who can point me in the main direction of something vaguely interesting. Oh, and I thought I could do some christmas shopping! Yeah, that's a good argument...

And what do you know, Depeche Mode just HAPPENS to play at the O2 when I'm there! It's magic, fate, destiny, like it was meant to be! Well yeah, so I got a ticke for that too. *cough* But it had nothing to do with it orignally, honest.

Anyway, that's the plan. A flight, a hotel, a city, a band, then home again. If anyone is dying to join me, you're more than welcome. I haven't booked a hotel just yet...

Finally something new!

I have finally managed to find some music that actually interests me, and that ISN'T Depeche! W00t! It's not exactly something brand new, I heard about Detektivbyrån before I went to the Arvika-festival, and liked both their music and their concert very much (one of the nicest, warmest and relaxed shows I've ever been to). But I just discovered a"new" song via my wonderful, whimsical and sometimes downright spooky shuffle-button. It reminds me of the Arvika festival, and miss the mood I had while I was there. I spent months and months looking forward to it, and when I was finally there I was downright knocked out by the heat, it was all over to soon and now that I look back I wish I could go back in time and relive it (and probably found some bloody way of chilling my beer). It is weird how I never seem to BE where I am, and live in the moment. I'm much better at looking forward to something, and then looking back at it later. Not a good trait. And the song makes me miss the summer heat and the sun. In short, it makes me happy, and it's a nice change from having Dave or Mart constantly in my ear. Well not litterally, you know, ew, but.. You get the idea.

Black celebration.

Spending another week at Radiumhospitalet as moral support and company for my mate. He's starting to feel it now, lying in bed more and dozing off occasionally. Not that he is complaining, and seeing the state of a lot of the other patients, he is getting away rather easily with this whole chemo thing. This time. He didn't last time, so he knows how "lucky" he is.

Boy, a hospital can be the loneliest place in the world at night time. Can't imagine how it must be for the patients. Thank heavens for internet. And I can't sleep, as per usual. All though I should be ready to pass out, I was up at 11, which is about four-five hours earlier than I've normally been up the past weeks (shameful, I know), and by then I hadn't slept more than 5-6 hours. Must be that instant cocoa I had - it's some kind of sugar rush.

Oh, hang on, my mate rolled around in his sleep and pinched the IV cable, alarms going off...

Right. Had to give up on my knitting project, before I even had the chance to start. Found a online version of a knitting pattern for a hat, which seems to be sort of incomplete. It's hard enough following english knitting instructions when I'm out of practice as it is, I can't be asked to decipher codes and figure out missing parts too. Will have to wait for that punk knit book from Amazon. Can't wait to make my own "Yarn on Floof"-hat! Just like the one the Martin wore during the Playing the Angel tour.

Without the knitting project, I'm now left with a season of Sorpanos, a few movies ("Milk", "Changeling", "The day the earth stood still"), and a few DM-dvd's for entertainment. Oh, and a few books on nursing. Which I am terrified of. Having horrible visions of me opening the books and discovering they're all in greek or russian, or seeing the letters crawling around within its pages. Maybe that'll be my goal for the week, to overcome my fear of books I need for studying.

Accidentally came over the lyrics for Black Celebration in the car today - heard the song before but never really listened. When I did pay attention, I almost giggled, but in a melancholic way. This song could've been written by yours truly back when I was horribly dark and depressive. But I didn't, Martin did. He always seems to find the words. Simplicity is often the best. I am still horribly dark and depressive, sometimes. But when I am, I know Martin's got my back.

Lets have a black celebration
Black celebration
Tonight

To celebrate the fact
That we've seen the back
Of another black day

I look to you
How you carry on
When all hope is gone
Can't you see

Your optimistic eyes
Seem like paradise
To someone like
Me

I want to take you
In my arms
Forgetting all I couldnt do today

Black celebration
Tonight
To celebrate the fact
That we've seen the back
Of another black day

I look to you
And your strong belief
Me, I want relief
Tonight

Consolation
I want so much
Want to feel your touch
Tonight
Take me in your arms
Forgetting all you couldn't do today

Black celebration
I'll drink to that
Black celebration
Tonight


Why does my short blog-posts always turn out the longest? And sorry for not being able to make a single post without mentioning Depeche Mode. When you're hung up, you just are.

Best smoothie ever!

Ambitious but rubbish - now also with recipes!

Hi, I'm Emmy and I'm overweight. Fact. Weight, food and my body has been an issue for as long as I can remember, and both the intake of food and my actual weight has been as fluctuating and unstable as my mental health. I lost a fair bit of weight when my mum died, only to gain 30-40kgs in the next few years. Surprise, surprise, that's what happens when you have no regard at all for what you stuff your face with. Which I didn't. My all time low had to be when I tipped about.. 95. And yes, that's kilos. Keeping in mind that I'm about the same height as a tall hobbit (156cm), that just doesn't add up. Knowing in the far corners of the back of my mind that I was heading there again, I went to a doctor, who was kind enough to refer me to a weight clinic, where I'll be a patient for 2 years.

There's no hocus pocus to loosing weight, I know that, I've done it before, I've even done it the right way, by eating less, but more often, cutting out sugar and by exercising, instead of starving myself which many seem to think is the answer. And I am a comfort eater, I'm aware of that; I eat when I'm bored, when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I celebrate something... All right, so if I know all of this, what am I waiting for? Motivation, basically. Hopefully the clinic will help with that.

My point for writing this post wasn't really to tell you all of this, but to talk about my breakfast. My sister started making smoothies a while ago, and got me hooked. Being a picky eater I'm not big on salads and vegetables (unless it comes out of a wok), but I'm all for fruits. Hence I went out and bought a blender, and quite a few pounds of frozen berries and pinapple. Word of advice - pineapples are damn tough when frozen, don't try it in the blender. The wonderful thing with smoothies is that you can stuff whatever you feel like in them.

- Pineapple
- Mixed berries (raspberry, boysenberry, blueberry and a type of ribess (currant)
- Passion fruit juice
- Fresh orange juice
- Yoghurt/some sort of dairy product/soy milk/wheat milk/whatever I have in the fridge.

Measurements? That's for wusses - I use the scientific method of "a handful of this and a dash of that". Best way is to mix the solid stuff first with a bit of juice, and then add liquids later until you have the consistency you like. I'm more of a "mush"-person, and tend to eat my smoothie with a spoon, which probably is all wrong. Oh, and it tastes good with müsli.

Moment of zen

I've never been much of a hippie, I've never worn my hair very long on my head or other places, I'm far too materialistic, I don't smoke marihuana. I am, however, always been slightly on the alternative side, and never afraid of trying anything new: these days I eat ecological whenever I can, I believe in a spiritual life (and to some extent, ghosts), I've listened to a lot of alternative music, many would say I've tried just about every alternative style of clothing there is, I've done yoga...

Spiritual moments is a very wide term, and can encompass religion, but to me it doesn't. Spirituality to me doesn't include a god, or rules. Nevertheless I just had one of those spiritual moments - a random, impulsive moment that I never would've seen coming, that I didn't know how happened and that I will remember forever.

I was sitting infront of my computer, talking to a mate about a song which I've mentioned before, "Freestate", a lyric that has meant an awful lot to me, it has supported, comforted and guided me, and given me a new way of thinking. And the more I think about it, the more the lyric grows and becomes a part of me - which was what I was trying to explain to said mate. I should confess that I've had 3 beers prior to this, and just watched a Depeche Mode concert dvd - none of which is illegal- but to me it apparently works as some sort of drug. Because in mid-chat I suddenly noticed the pouring rain outside, and had an idea. I took off my socks, grabbed my iPod and waltzed out into my backyard, into the rain, barefoot, feeling the rain soaking my feet, falling on my skin, slowly drenching my clothes. Why? I'm not sure. It might be that I am at a turning point in my life - in the past years so much has changed. I now have a name (or names) for my illness, I have medication which helps, gone through a lot of helpful therapy, worked with myself, evolved and developed, figured out alot about myself, I am starting school in less than a month, moving to a new city, hopefully starting a new life, a successful life, getting new friends, new impulses, doing something that seems worthwhile. But this might have nothing to do with it at all. Maybe I just wanted to feel the rain against my skin, the fresh air, listen to the music, the wonderful lyrics that gave me the kick up the backside that I needed. Maybe it was my way of celebrating the change in me, some sort of cleansing. Or my way of thanking Martin Gore for finding the words that has helped me so much, for making me feel seen, understood and giving me some sort of guidance. Or maybe I'm just more drunk than I think. It doesn't matter. To me it felt transcendental, calming and just right.


I can hear your soul crying
Listen to your spirit sighing
I can feel your desperation
Emotional deprivation

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your feelings show

Picking up the conversations
Deep in your imagination
Tune in to the lonely voices
Talking of their only choices

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your spirit grow

Step out of your cage and onto the stage
It's time to start playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state

I can taste the tears falling
The bitterness that's inside you calling
Yearning for a liberation
Emotional emancipation

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your senses overflow

Step out of your cage and onto the stage
It's time to start playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state

Happy birthday!

As it turns out, Martin Gore turns 48 today. Happy birthday, man! Take it easy on the celebrations, you're playing in Toronto tomorrow!

Too much time and money...

Sounds like a real luxury problem, eh?

When I have absolutely nothing to do, I can't seem to get anything done. The past week or so I've had what should be a rather welcome time of slacking after a month or two with a full schedual, but somewhere in the last 6 months I've lost the ability. I get restless, bored and time seems to stand still. Oh sure, there are things I could do - do about 15 loads of laundry, tidy up the kitchen, do a bit of pre-school reading in some of the books I bought for my upcoming studies, but no - when I have no clear schedual, I can't get anything done. Except what I always do, which is to turn into a confused creature of the night that gets out of bed just about when normal people go home from work, and spend the rest of the day feeling that the day's already over. And with all of this slacking and lack of motivation you should think I finally would have the time to blog more prolifically, but it's the same story: I just never get around to it.

By the way - speaking of studies - I GOT IN! According to my private calculations of my grade point average compared to what it takes to get in, I should be a shoe-in, but you never know - often I tend to pull off things that just shouldn't be possible. Thankfully no distasters struck this time, and I got the official acceptance letter (unceremoniously by email, even!) a couple of days ago. Now, I just wish this horrible vacation deal would end so I could get started, get out of this chaotic house and into my own apartment, and start studying. Sitting here dreading something is far worse than taking the plunge and just.. doing it. If I am going to fail horribly once again, I want to do it sooner rather than later, thanks.

One of the few things keeping me mildly occupied these days is my ongoing Depeche Mode obsession. Honestly, it was about bloody time my Top Gear craze died down a bit, but of course that didn't happen until I had something to shift my focus onto. Seriously, I think all of these obsessions are just a sign that I need to get myself a bloke. Fast. So I can obsess about him instead - hurr hurr. Meanwhile, waiting for said miracle man, I'll have to make do with the blokes in Depeche. Not bad blokes, though...

I might not have mentioned this earlier, but a month or so ago I got the rather happy news that I'd "won" in a complaint I placed to the local social service offices, meaning I'll get a nice pile of money sometime soon-ish. Now, giving me a wad of cash is never wise in any case, but now all the possibilities has sort of run away with me. All right, I have school books and a deposit on the apartment to pay. And I bought a bunch of clothes for the summer, and that Depeche ticket to Bergen, which means I'll have to get plane or train tickets too. When I move, I might need a new sofa (so I can burn the salmon pink, itchy, horrible one that's probably older than me). And seeing as I am currently using a mates old hand me down computer, I should invest in a new one while I have the chance. The possibilities are suddenly endless, and I know full well that I really should try and save a bit of it too - I might be going to Namibia in a few years time. I am, admittedly, not good at thinking ahead. Not that many years ahead - it just seems like another lifetime. BUT! Suffering from my current obsessive craze, I am contemplating seeing yet another concert sometime in December. Maybe in London or Berlin. Sure, I would probably have to go alone, but I have no issues with that, I actually kind of like spending a few days on my own in a new place, I can do whatever the bloody hell I like without having to cater to anyone elses needs and wishes. (Except for those two weeks I spent alone in Malta, that was a total and utter disaster.) And I could always do some christmas shopping while I'm abroad... D'oh, the endless possibilities. But who knows, it might be their last tour?! They're like.. 47 and stuff! Dave's already been through one surgery and one torn up calf muscle this tour, and they only started in May!

Shh. Stop talking like that. Nonsense. I have nothing but confidence in the health of Dave, Andy and Mart, of course they'll give out another album in.. 2012 by my calculations, just in time for me finishing my studies, and I can celebrate by going to two or three new concerts. But, what if...

Merry... uhm... summer?

I just had my own, private little christmas eve in my livingroom in the middle of july! One should treat oneself once in a while...

5 years ago I collected CD's fanatically, buying old "classics" and new stuff from bands I liked, basically I spent all my money on it (which isn't much when you're a student). But as internet capacity and my economical sense grew, I quit the habit of CD hoarding and kept to downloading the stuff I wanted to listen to instead, and cramming it into my iPod. I'm not going to go into a discussion about music and pirating. I just know that if I should've bought the albums of ALL the bands and artist I listen to or want to check out, which is quite a lot, I would've ended up as a homeless person with the biggest CD collection in the world. And that's just fact.

For the last few years I haven't bought any CD's at all. Mostly because there's no need for it, I rarely use CD's for anything. I have my iPod, which I listen to in my car, when I'm out walking, in bed et cetera, and when I'm on my computer I have the music on there too.

So, why did I get a big box of albums in the mail today?
Well. This is the part where I'm going to sound like one of them old music fanatics who HAS to have everything on vinyl because it just sounds better, or still collects vinyl or CDs because you can hold them phsyically in your hand. And I must say I see their point. An album you can hold in your hand means much more than files on a gadget ever could. There are a small number of bands in my life that in my eyes are "CD-worthy", meaning they're important enough for me to actually go ut and get their albums. I will more than likely not listen to these at all, they will be put lovingly and tenderly on a shelf as collectors items and my babies, so I won't risk destroying them. It's weird, after 10-15 years of listening to CD's I still have a knack for breaking them, mainly because I swap music a lot and can't be bothered to put them back in their cases. Or I accidentally step on the cases and break those in stead. The majority of the music I listen to will come from my iPod or my computer, it' easily accessible and more portable in that way. But I'll always cherish having the real thing. Hopefully I will have installed so much musical sense into my kids that I will have to hide my (by then vintage) CD's from them, so they won't break them. But secretly I'll love it.

And what did I buy?
All Depeche Mode-stuff, of course: The Sounds of the universe box set, four dvd's and almost their entire album discography, including a few remastered versions of the older albums. That's what you get for being a religious Depeche Mode devotional. Reach out and touch faith!

Business as usual...

After a few days of endless Depeche Mode ranting, I am back to normal. Well, as normal as I go, anyway. What have I done today? Well, I've worked for 11+ hours as a volunteer marshal for a local street car even at a rally circuit close to where I live. I like to think that I am so idealistic that I would've said yes to this even if cars didn't interest me at all, but I think that might be a lie; me liking cars was a reason why I said yes to do this (although I do believe that volunteering for these things is important, without volunteers festivals and events like these would never ever happen).

These street car events are mostly about styled and pimped out "street legal" cars, mostly Nissans, Hondas, Audi's, BMW's etc. There are, however, a lot of banged up old Datsuns, Opels, Fords and god knows what else making one hell of a racket out on the circuit, most of them are just there to drive and have fun, or drift the hell out of their tyres. And of course you get a few rare and odd ones, like this Ferrari F40, an Alfa, a fair amount of Porsches, a Lotus Exige, Caterhams, a Chrysler 300C with a bloody Hemi in it, and so on.

My work for the day consisted of guarding a gate, checking that people had the appropriate entrance armbands and selling tickets to those who didn't have any. Luckily we were stood at the southern entrance, meaning that people coming through our gate were from the adjacent camp and had their armbands. Ie very little effort on our part. On the downside I spent the better part of 10 hours behind a grassy hill, being deafened by drifting and racing cars, but not seeing anything but the grassy hill. The 250 odd photos I took today I managed to snap during an hour or two where I sneaked away to watch the racing (don't worry, I have sifted through them and ended up with 70 decent ones). Think I might have to go out there tomorrow to take some real photos... *ponder*

Uh-oh!

My twitter feed just notified me that Dave Gahan injured his leg during the show they did in Bilbao on July 9th, he managed to get a tear in a calf muscle and have to cancel a few shows. Luckily, sort of, they didn't have any shows schedules between July 12th and 24th, which gives him a while to stay off his feet, but still sad for the people who had tickets for the canceled shows. By the sounds of it, Dave is having a rather unlucky tour, being hospitalized in Athens in May, and now being injured again.

Personally I am just thankful they can be bothered to do these tours at all. In 2010 they've been at it for 30 years, releasing 21 albums and doing god knows how many world tours. After Playing the Angel I honestly thought they were going to leave it at that, but thankfully they didn't. Which is a good thing for me, otherwise I never would've had the chance to see them live at Arvika, or again in Bergen, and that goes for most of the younger fanbase. They could've left Depeche Mode for what it is rather easily, and lived happily and comfortably with their friends and families for the rest of their lives. Now I just hope that the rest of the tour will be better for the band, Dave especially, that it doesn't wear them out completely, and that they'll be able to keep it together until Bergen in January 2010. But guys, remember; you're 46 and 47 years old. Relax a bit, will ya?

And to complete my fangirl post of the day I'd like to post some lyrics. They're mushy and a total cliche, but neither me nor Martin Gore cares. Just goes to show how simple things can be said.


I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details
Someone who'll stand by my side
And give me supportAnd in return
She'll get my support
She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general
Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
She'll hear me out
And won't easily be converted
To my way of thinking
In fact she'll often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me

I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought and
With every breath
Someone who'll help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like
I don't want to be tied
To anyone's strings
I'm carefully trying to steer clear of
Those things
But when I'm asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly

Though things like this
Make me sick

In a case like this
I'll get away with it

Giggle of the day!

You'll have to excuse me for being a huge fangirl these days, I'm lost in a euphoric post-concert high, and won't be landing soon I'm afraid.

Found this clip the other day and it made me blush, giggle and be very embarrased. No, it's not naked baby photos of me playing with my dolls or anything, but I would've been equally embarrassed if it was. It's a video from a concert in 1982, 3 years before I was even born (!), and it features a couple of very young, innocent looking, kind of clumsy but sort of adorable guys you might recognize. I'm particularily impressed by the lumberjack shirt, the Carlton Banks (from Fresh Prince) type dance moves and the bumfluff on Martin's face... I love these guys, really, but - Prepare to giggle!

Thank you, Arvika!

Now that I have that Depeche Mode ranting and raving out of my system (well, sort of), I think I can tell abit about the festival in general.

We, meaning me and a friend, left early on Thursday, and had a stop at a shopping centre just across the border in Sweden, seeing as beer and food is cheaper over there, before driving the last bit to Arvika. As we unloaded the stuff we quickly understood that this might be one hell of a walk. I was sure I'd tried to pack as lightly as I could, but when you insist on such luxuries as an airmatress, a party tent and comfy camping chairs, you have to be prepared to haul heavy shit around. When you add the fact that we were stupid enough to shop lots of beer/soda and food BEFORE setting up our campsite, you get... a big pile of stuff to carry. I ended up hauling a 20kg backpack with an 11kg partytent strapped to it on my back, and in each hand I had a big, brown paper bag stuffed with food and drinks. The marshals at the entrance to the campsite nearly applaused me as I arrived huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat, and were kind enough to help me with my backpack and hand me some water. I think I earned some respect, and some of the marshals actually greeted me several times after that.

Luxury camping!
The campsite we'd chosen as a new feature at this years festival; the "quiet" camp. Which really is a bad name, it should've been named "the more luxurious, less noisy camp for a slightly more mature festival crowd". Or something. It was situated on a football field, meaning we had a flat ground, we had access to our "own" showers and toilets in addition to the normal port-a-potties, lots of marshals walking around picking up trash or just answering general questions, it was located much closer to the festival area than the other campsites - in short, the benefits were many, and I was very happy I chose to dish out the extra €10 to live there, well worth it!

The heat!
Now, large parts of northern Europe, at least Norway and Sweden, has had a few weeks of nearly tropical weather, with bright sunshine and temperatures from 20 to 35 degrees celcius. I will admit that I have spent the past 4 months praying for nice weather, the prospect of living at a festival campsite in heavy rain for days really sounded as much as fun as the swine flu, but I might've overdone it a bit. Living outsite with nothing but a cheap party tent to protect you from the heat can be one hell of a challenge, and feel like what amounts to pure torture; you don't have anywhere to run or hide but the shade, and that help only marginally. After a while you realise you just have to accept the fact that you'll be drenched in sweat until the sun goes down, and remember to drink lots of water. The heat also resulted in me drinking a lot less than what one could expect, because we had no way of cooling the beer we'd hauled all the way there, and the idea of being really hungover in that heat made me want to cry the big wet. All in all it was a good thing: I can remember everything, I didn't spend as much money as I might have done, I wasn't hungover and I now have a lot of beer in my fridge.

The Arvika Festival has grown a lot since I last visited it in 2003, with more campsites, more stages, more acts and more visitors, but it is still a quite "small" festival compared to others. And I really love it. The tickets are cheap, the food and beer doesn't cost TOO much, the marshals and volunteer workers are really nice, and there are bands and music to suit just about everyone's taste. This year I got to see Detektivbyrån, Mars Volta, Nine Inch Nails, Elegant Machinery, Bob Hund and Depeche Mode. I regret not seeing Røyksopp, but they played on the day we arrived, and I was so knackered I just had to sit quietly on my bum for a while and enjoy a beer that was actually cold. Nine Inch Nails did a better performance here than they did at the Øya festival in 2007, or so I thought, maybe I just got a better view (and a cold beer). Trent's performance of "Hurt" was the absolute highlight, the level of noise from the crowd dropped to zero, everyone sang along with intense concentration and a focused calm, it was actually very emotional.

Bob Hund
I was positively surprised by Bob Hund's performance. Bob Hund is a band I really don't know how to describe, they're labeled as "indierock" inspired by Velvet Underground, Gun Club, Kraftwerk and the Pixies, but that doesn't do them justice. The vocalist is one of the most fascinating characters I've ever seen, he freaks me out and pulls me in at the same time. He's energetic, hyperactive, eccentric, funny and intense, and the concert was interesting and entertaining to watch even though I don't have much of a relationship with their music. But I do think I will always prefer Bob Hund live, their studio recordings aren't half as interesting.

All in all this was my best festival trip to date. I didn't get too drunk, too hungover or too broke, I learned the value of taking the trouble to carry a few extra luxury items along, had great people for company, I saw some good bands, had a few near-religious experiences and had my best concert and musical experience of my life. Can't ask for more, can I?

My personal jesus.

Sweden. The Arvika Festival. Sunset. Tropical temperatures. 24 000 people. And Depeche Mode.

March 29th I bought my ticket to the festival, after a month of trying to get someone to come with me. The sole reason was Depeche Mode. I didn't need anything else. Everything else was just a bonus. Almost 4 months of painstaking waiting was ahead of me, and I did the only thing I could do: prayed for good weather. Might have overdone it with the praying, but by 21.55 on july 3rd I didn't care about tropical temperatures bordering on torture; all I could think of was that Depeche Mode probably was backstage, just metres away from me, and that I was about to see them live.

High expectations and long waits are dangerous, they build up to something that might or might not be as good as you think, and either way it'll be over way too soon, and then you'll be in such a state of anticlimax you don't know what to do with yourself. But I didn't care about that either, it was 21.59 and I felt like I was about explode.

I started off way at the front of the stage, but didn't get close to the fence, and typically ended up exactly behind a guy who was approximately 2 metres tall, and that's not even exaggerating slightly. So I quickly retreated out of the honestly rather insane crowd and went to a slope on the side, where I sat down for a while, but eventually got up and got a very good, although a bit distant, view. But then again, all 24 000 of us can't be sweated on by Dave Gahan, no matter how much some of us would want to... Thank god for huge video screens.

Before the show I decided that I wouldn't spend the entire concert with my eye glued to the camera, missing the concert itself because I wanted to take pictures of it. I therefore did a few short burts of shooting with my new compact camera, mostly resulting in horribly blurry photos, but a few of them are sort of ok, as is the short videos I recorded, some of which can be seen on this page. I've uploaded my pictures to Flickr and Facebook also, if you're interested.

How to describe this concert? Where to start? On stage were Depeche Mode, a band that's been at it for 30 years without going stagnant, a band that has such a long string of good albums it's historic, and so many hits it's impossible to fit them into a single show. A band that hasn't broken up, despite drug problems, arguing, feuds, in fact it's a miracle and a frankly rather amazing accomplishment that they're not just still together, but getting on with each other better than ever. They're in a category of their own, and has the best song writer ever in Martin Gore. I was mezmerized, hypnotized, ecstatic, in love, in awe. I couldn't stop smiling.

The absolute highlights for me were the achingly sad Precious, and Martin Gore's live performance of "Home", where his beautiful voice and ever more beautiful piano chords gave me goosebumps, chills and made me cry. The image that will stick with me forever, however, is that of 24 000 people waving their hands wildly back and forth together with Dave Gahan, who waved wilder than anyone, during "Never let me down again". That moment was pure magic in all it's ecstasy. I'm not even sure I believe I was there, and that it actually was THEM I saw on stage, virtually metres away from me.

This concert will probably be the closest I'll ever come to a religious experience.

Thank you Dave, Martin and Andy.

(The moment which made it all worth it: 24 000 people waving their hands to "Never let me down again")

The few rewievs I've read on this concert have been negative or indifferent, describing poor choices in songs, a lack of real hits, a band out of tune, a lack of scenography, people leaving and the whole thing being a gigantic disappointment. Now, I might be biased, or very easy to please, (both, most likely, I probably would've been happy if they'd just stood there and waved for 105 minutes) but I think they're wrong. I already harbor a strong dislike for self-proclaimed all-knowing music critics who think their opinion matter. Firstly; they have so many "hit songs" it's impossible to fit them into a single show, as I said before, and some are bound to be disappointed. The band being out of tune I didn't pick up on at all. And the lack of scenography and special effects is just a result of this being a festival gig; Bob Hund left the stage at 20.30, that left 90 minutes to rig down their stuff, and rig up for Depeche Mode, do line checks, sound checks etc. In short: there's no time for bloody statues or flying doves or huge rigs or whatever the hell they expected. In an arena show they might have hours and hours for rigging up. As for the people leaving; couldn't have been that many, because the entire area seemed jam packed with people, people stood or sat wherever they could.

The first thing I did when I came home was to grab my computer and hit the online ticket service, and the result is a ticket for their postponed show in Bergen, Norway, which was originally meant to take place on July 2nd. The tickets are horribly expensive, Depeche Mode even tried to sue the concert arranger to get the prices down, they've always been adamant that their productions, tickets and merchandise won't be overpriced. Sadly, for my wallet at least, they didn't get anywhere with it. I had two choices when I bought the tickets, the "normal" ones and the "golden circle", which basically is a closed-off section to the front and left of the stage, which has a limited number of tickets, meaning that I won't have to stand in line forever to get a good spot, and I won't get squeezed to death. It cost as much as the entire 3 day pass did for the Arvika Festival, and I more than likely have to go alone, but I really couldn't care less. I now have something to look forward to again! Now, what to pray for? Backstage passes?


Setlist:
In Chains
Wrong
Hole to feed
Walking in my shoes
It's no good
A question of Time
Precious
Fly on the windscreen
Home
Come Back
Peace
In your room
I feel you
Enjoy the silence
Never let me down again

Encore:
Stripped
Personal Jesus

(Depeche Mode - Enjoy the silence live @ Arvika 2009. Pure magic.)

So ready!

Firstly I just want to say this: I'm bloody done moving! The apartment I have now vacated was on the third floor and the sunny side of a building clad in sheet metal, making it hotter than hell in a heatwave like the one we're in now. I've spent the past 2 nights packing and cleaning from midnight until morning, because that's the only time it's possible to di anything in there except sit down and cry in a puddle of sweat. Since I moved to my own place at age 15 I've moved 11-12 times, and can I just say that if I have to move ever again, it'll be to soon. And I'm moving again on August 15th. Oh, cock.

Tomrrow I'm off to the Arvika festival, and my entire dinner table is covered with stuff to pack. Honestly I have no idea how we're supposed to carry all our stuff from the car to the campsite. Wheelbarrow, anyone? I am trying to bury my sense of tiredness, lack of energy and heat exhaustion and digging up excitement and joy. Back in 2003 I was so knackered and hungover by day 3 of the festival I spent most of the day crying. Hopefully I've grown up a bit and learned a thing or two about alcohol consumption and common sense since then. As long as I have water, Vitamin C and a pack of painkillers I'll survive. And the prospect of seeing Depeche Mode makes me so psyched I almost pee my pants!