27 januar 2009

4K - Bygd for å rives

I once played in a band for 26 hours. I was not kicked out because of my poor guitar playing (although that would be perfectly understandable) or any annoying antics. The reason I played with this band for only 26 hours was that the band only existed for 26 hours. From the time we met until we parted the day after, we composed and recorded one hour of music (inbetween eating, sleeping and, not least, drinking). We released the music (on cassette) to what can only be called less than critical acclaim. According to the critic in Rock Furore, we would be better off finding ourselves some new hobbies because playing and making music was not something we knew how to do. Needless to add, he did not tell us anything new.

Despite its short lifespan, the band was not a spur of the moment thing. We had started discussing it a few weeks prior to meeting. Tor Arne, the vocalist had written lyrics for a few songs, thought about some melodies, and even made drawings for the planned booklet. Geir, the poet/percussionist, had also written some stuff, although I'm not sure if we used it or not. The rest of us, Knut Eirik - bass, Kjell Roald - drums, and myself - one-chord guitar, met a couple of days before the others to rig the equipment and to "jam". Kjell Roald, who provided us with most of the gear we used for playing and recording, was a late addition to the band, and is therefore found missing from the jacket of the booklet that had been drawn weeks before (press arrows to see the rest of the 15 page booklet).

We were joined by Geir and Tor Arne in the afternoon of August 18 1989. Our first collective chore was to buy beer. Lots of beer. And some liquor. Afterwards, we headed out to "the studio", which was the living room of the house where I grew up in Levanger. What we started on first, making music or drink beer, I can't remember now, but within a few hours we already had a few tunes ready. Having access to a 4-track tape recorder but no decent microphones, we decided, after testing the available recording equipment, that recording the songs live to 2-track cassette would leave us with the best results.

This was how we spent the evening and night. We started working on the lyrics and melody sketches of Tor Arne, crafting them into "songs", and once a song was deemed "ready", we recorded it. Of course, consuming all the alcohol while working probably dulled any critical judgment we had towards our own creations, and it certainly influenced our already limited instrumental abilities negatively. A case in point is this song, Bygd for å rives, which was the last song to be recorded before going to bed the first night (or morning). I remember being so heavily "under the influence" that I staggered around, being unable to stand up straight when playing guitar. Judging from the recorded evidence, the others weren't feeling much better either. I also remember that at this point, Geir had collapsed on the sofa, sleeping tight despite all the noise we made around him.

Waking up the day after was both a pleasant surprise and something of a let-down. Although feeling pleased about all the songs we had managed to make the night before, the tape we had used to record the songs was damaged, necessitating a re-recording of some of them (not Bygd for å rives fortunately, because I would not have been able to decipher what I had played). This turned out to be a not so easy task, both in regards to the reconstruction of what we had done the night before and in regards to being able to mobilize enthusiasm to do them all over again. Consequently, the new versions came out much more restrained than those recorded the night before. Even though we were tired and a bit fed up from doing that, we nevertheless decided to make one more song, and, to boot, to improvise it. The result turned out to be a 30-minute suite, encompassing the entire second side of the cassette that subsequently was released. Some people claim that only highly proficient musicians can improvise music, but we proved them wrong. Or did we? The jury's still out.

A month or so later, the cassette Buddha-avdelingen, named after one of the more structured songs, was released. Our name, decided long before the recording session, was KaminKaninKanelKamelene, or 4K for short. Don't feel bad if you've never heard of us. How you'll feel after hearing it, though, I can't say.

2 kommentarer:

  1. THOSE WERE THE DAYS! Takk til Asle for en glimrende oppsummering av 4Ks korte karriere (...). Da vi våknet opp dagen etter og spiste frokost (brødskive med peanøtter og sennep, for min del) - for deretter å lytte til sanger jeg ikke husket at vi hadde spilt inn, syntes jeg det var storveis å være medlem av 4K. Så veldig mange flere enn oss syntes nok ikke det, som Asle er inne på. Men det var ting ved 4K som jeg gjerne skulle tatt med til andre og senere band. Spontaniteten, viljen til å prøve det uprøvde, løpingen på tynn is, ignoreringen av alle grenser, synlige og usynlige. Dessuten, noe nærmere et Magic Band har Skogn aldri vært!

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  2. Fett! Tilfeldigvis var dette lydsporet også nokså nært opp mot slik hodet mitt var i morres da jeg våknet altfor tidlig etter en altfor sen kveld på Credo!

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