NEAT INTERVIEW WITH MIKAEL

Rocky Raccoon

I am the Walrus
Feb 24, 2004
2,083
4
38
39
Auckland, New Zealand
Not sure if it's already been posted here but.....

(Translated from a swedish Mag)

When music completely takes over your life, anything can happen. Such as marking drum beats while having sex. Follow us home to the ghostlike crib of music-nerd Mikael Åkerfeldt.

All of a sudden the closed door to the bedroom starts creaking. Loudly and noisily. We look, but no one is visible.
We look at each other and Mikael explains that his apartment is haunted.

“A friend of mine, Anders (Nyström, guitarist) of Katatonia, was here, sober, and said someone knocked at his shoulder when he was at the bathroom. He checked, but no one was there. When something like that happens I think that it’s my grandpa who is impregnated here. My grandma was hit by a car at a crossing and died during the recording of our previous album, and grandpa died shortly after. So that’s kinda what it feels like, like they’re here. I won’t say that I believe in it, but when something spooky happens, that’s exactly the kind of thoughts I get. What else would it be?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“One wants to. I love it when people tell anecdotes, real stuff they’ve experienced. Ghost stories. It hasn’t happened to me a lot, but Peter’s (Lindgren, guitar) dad told of when he and his brother had been in an old house somewhere. They had woken up by a huge ruckus in the dining room. What had happened was that a huge oak dining table had flown across the room and broken to pieces on the other side. It feels too smart or subtle to be made up.”

Ghost Reveries is the name of Opeth’s 8th full length album, the first one on Roadrunner. That the central figure, likewise singer and guitarist, invited me home to share his ghost stories was probably not his main intention.
Mikael Åkerfeldt wants above all to show me what a music freak he is. And that he values times long passed.

The three-room apartment in Västertorp is placed high on up on a hill, with a view of Stockholm for miles and miles. Earlier the parents lived here, and their old, worn-out leather couch (“I had to have it”) still stands in the livingroom.
It’s green, just like about everything else in this 70’s mausoleum of a room.

“’Green is sweet’, as it’s called. In all the apartments I’ve lived in I’ve had the exact same, green, wallpaper. When I’ve moved I’ve demanded to have it. I have a friend who’s a painter and all I have to say is ‘get this for me’. It’s a woozy feeling. When I’m home I wanted it to feel clean, neat, homely and cozy. This is my vision of that feeling. In reality I wouldn’t want plastic on my vinyls, so that it smelled a bit like old paper. I love this room, my holy place.
“It’s nostalgia, the 70’s. I want it to be cozy and with a lot of stuff around. I hate the kind of places that are just a white room with a couch in. There has to be a lot of records and books. It’s cool.”

Among the books there are several old bibles, seemingly decorative rather than inspirational. Mikael is not a believer. He agrees that belief on a higher level would offer a sense of security, but he feels that he needs some kind of concrete evidence to acknowledge the existence of God.
He remembers the Confirmation camp with pleasure though.

“We were out hiking in the mountains and a couple of kicker girls were so tired of it that they called a cab to get back to the camp. When they were grabbing their bags out of the trunk they found 2 bottles of vodka that they stole with them. That evening we partied and listened to death metal, and in the morning we got up and wrote a new prayer.”

Each time we meet, most often at some concert, there’s always one thing the subscriber Mikael asks about: “When do I get to be in Close-Up’s Record Collector column?” His fingers itch with the need to spout about his record collection, as the nerd he is. The collection has the characteristics of an archive with thousands of records in categories such as “Germany”, “UK”, and “Scandinavia”.

“Hey, there was one thing I thought about concerning this question from Record Collector: ‘Which is the best album to have sex to?’. What happened wasn’t with my wife, but an ex. I don’t remember exactly what we listened to, but I was fooling around with my girl and I just HAD to mark a drumbeat. She was so fucking pissed. After that it was over.”
“The fooling around or the relationship?”
“Both. Anna listens to music almost as much as me, which is why we’re married and stick together. Otherwise it wouldn’t have worked out. One has been with a certain number of girls and this one in particular I remember because she said she liked Gypsie Kings, and I thought ‘ No, please god!’.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who gets as worked up about music as you do.”
“There are horny beats. You know, the kind that makes you go ‘oooooh’… But they’re damn hard to nail. (no pun intended – translator) Sex and Music really doesn’t go together, if the music is too good you lose your concentration.
“Are there any horny Opeth tunes?”
“Yes, once we made it. In The Drapery Falls on Blackwater Park (MFN 2001). But we can’t do it live, because it was some weird e-bow thing, we just couldn’t make it happen live. But that tune is so… horny.
“One can’t explain how one does it. Trey (Azagthoth) made it on Morbid Angel’s Entangled in Chaos: Live (earache, 1997), that’s where I heard it the first time. In Blessed Are the Sick he does a guitar solo something which one feels is right between pouch and anus!”
“Did you watch Morbid Angel live last time?”
“Yeah, I was completely blown away. What an act! We actually did a couple of performances with the band on Domination (1995). We had finished our second album Morningrise (Candlelight, 1996) and we weren’t far from entering the stage in frilled shirts. You know, like, Fresh Death.”
“Trash Death?”
“No, Fresh Death. You know, dandy-death metal. I brought a lute to the studio, which of course we never used, and we played a lot of chess. Smart, intelligent death metal with frilled shirts. We touched it for a moment, that we were so unique. Pretty blown-up egos, even though we didn’t have anything to base it on, since hardly anyone knew who we were.
“I remember that all of us talked about how we were going to blow Morbid Angel off the stage. That band was passé, but I was still a death-fan. And then we did our set, and thought we were so great. Then Morbid Angel came out and just owned us. Totally.
“Broken ego?”
“Yeah, but it was good, a wake-up call. Back then it was black metal that counted. We weren’t blac, and not really death either. We did our flared pants and suits thing, and then the bit about wanting to be a bit fresh and maybe have a white shirt came along. A bit intelligent seeming, even though it really wasn’t. It was a great wake-up call to go on that tour, so one got a bit of perspective on things.
“When everything quieted down after the first concert – damn Morbid Angel was great! Last time at Klubben in Stockholm I realized they’re the only death band that is still good. When they played God of Emptiness I felt that it was unique, no one can play that way or even write that kind of song. That’s unique for Morbid Angel. Such things makes one happy.”
“When did you realize that there was something special about Opeth?”
“Actually I’ve felt a bit like that since the start. Even before we got a record deal. We rehearsed 6 days a week between 1991 and 1994. We rehearsed in complete darkness so that we could play without seeing what we played. Back then there was no one who made such long songs, a lot of stuff happened and there were no verses or refrains. When we made our first album (Orchid, Candlelight, 1995) I knew people would feel that we were different. I still don’t think anyone else sound like us.”

Opeth’s exciting metamorphosis continues on Ghost Reveries, produced by their own hands in the Örebro studio Fascination Street, with Jens Bogren as sound technician. The quartet Mikael Åkerfeldt, Peter Lindgren, Martin Mendez (bass) and Martin Lopez (drums) have now teamed up with keyboardist Per Wiberg (Spiritual Beggars).
He was supposed to take part on the mellow piece Damnation (MFN, 2003), but other duties got in the way. On the following tour, however, documented on last year’s dvd Lamentations, he joined in.
Mikael and Per played around with a side project for a long time but it never got anywhere. One of Per’s riffs survived in Beneath the Mire at least.
That Opeth has turned into a quintet is very noticeable. The new instrument colors the new music.
“Yeah it has, quite a bit even. But we tried not to overdo it, ‘Hey we have a keyboard-dude,’ and suddenly it’s Dimmu Borgir.”
"The opener Ghost of Perdition has some black metal vibes."
“But I still feel like they’re in the background. But of course we have those influences and Per likes black metal. When Darkthrone releases a new album he buys it the same day, while I’m more like ‘naw’.”
“What are you most satisfied with?”
“That it’s something new. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. It’s something we haven’t had before, a mood. Not the whole time, but occasionally it crops up like a mood or style we haven’t used before. Some parts are more up-beat.
“Earlier I have felt something worrying me if you play in the major key: ‘It can’t be major, it has to be minor, all the time.’ Now I’ve started working more with the contrasts which results between uplifting and down to a broody or evil riff. The contrasts gets larger, and we have succeeded with that much more now.”
“You’ve used it before.”
“Yes, but not to this extent. Now It’s almost like a new style in certain parts of the songs. Something that gives it even more charge. It’s a little renewal. We’ve been playing for a long while now and I refuse to make the same album over and over again. I want something to happen, otherwise you might as well go do something else. Many bands today are so convenient, they do their thing because the last album sold well, so they just make another and another, and at last they are on stage with only 20 people in the audience.

Above all others big music freaks tend to steal ideas from others consciously, but do it well.
“Sometimes I feel that I don’t steal it ‘well’. But when I’m done with my version, i.e. my theft, it never sounds like what I stole it from. When I steal something I think ‘Shit, I can’t do that, but I’ll do it anyway.’ I steal tons, titles and texts embarrassingly much. I guess it’s part of the art, and everyone has always been doing it.
“When you record you name the songs different ways. One is called “The Russian” (Beneath the Mire), cause it sounds like Russian music. And then there might be one with the working title Anne-Lie Rydé (Reverie/Harlequin Forest), because I stole it from her. Please don’t ask why I listen to Anne-Lie Rydé.”
I don’t ask. Instead I suggest that he plays her song and their own theft of it.
Said and done
“I haven’t listened to it myself, it might be exactly alike.” Says Mikael while Reverie/Harlequin Forest is playing.
The original is to be found on Anne-Lie Rydé’s “Stulna Kyssar” (Hi Fidelity/EMI 1992). When it tunes out I start laughing out loud.
“You stole it straight off!” I exclaim.
“That’s what one would call a song-theft.”
“You look completely shaken.”
“Shit, you can’t bring this up in the magazine! It was eerily alike, I didn’t think it would be. But I guess she might need the publicity now that she didn’t do too well in the Swedish Eurovision Song Contest.
“It was a pretty conscious theft. I wanted to do something with those chords, which for our part go from d to e. It’s so suggestive. One has almost made it into a little delicacy. For my part, if one steals from such unlikely artists, it’s just fun in a way.”
“No one would ever make the connection if you never played this.”
“Nope, but now we’re screwed.”
Exactly which song it is you can find out for yourselves. Some excitement must remain for you.
“Haven’t you also ripped off Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir for Beneath the Mire?”
“Yeah, but it’s just a progression. Judgment Day by Whitesnake is Kashmir right off the page. I mean, you can steal and use a mood. In my case with Anne-Lie Rydé it’s a progression of chords.”
“And the melody as well.”
“Yes, the melody too” he sighs. “The progression calls for that melody, I couldn’t make it any other way.”
The thieving magpie plays a song from Still Life (Peaceville, 1999) as well. The mellow opening of Benighted can be tracked back to Never Let Go from Camel’s self-titled album (MCA, 1973).

“What do you feel is the biggest accomplishment with Ghost Reveries?”
“For my part it’s that one managed to write a new album, that one succeeds. When one finishes an album one always wonder if one will ever manage to write another decent song. So I’m pleased that we could patch this album together.”
“You who know that you will always write music, do you really feel that fear?”
“That I will always write music, I know, but one always worries what will become of it. ‘What do I like today? What will I settle for now?’ It’s worked so far. It’s a feeling that one has to play the guitar, one loves to play the guitar and write songs. But maybe one day there won’t be any new ideas. One worries. Constantly.
“Now there’s some pressure too. We have a record deal, I write alone and there’s some pressure in that. Especially if you’ve always tried to beat your previous endeavors.”
“But Opeth has never been in the position that you can do whatever you want and it will be accepted. With Damnation you’ve broken free of all restraints.”
“It’s sweet. Today we could do a totally freaked out Indian-inspired song and then a death tune with satanic lyrics, followed by a sweet ballad. That’s what we’ve been reaching for, to be accepted for what we do. That it’s not really strange that we do what we do.”

“What’s your motivation, really?”
“I don’t have much motivation at all. When it comes to the band I feel like I could give it up tomorrow. I want a comfortable, sweet life. I have a wife and kid now, the white Volvo, green wallpaper and a lot of records. I’m not going to waste time on what I don’t enjoy.”
“What don’t you enjoy?”
“For example people who complain about their job all the time, but still go to it every day. I’ve never understood that. I’m rather poor, and I have been, too, for a while when the band was going to hell. I didn’t have a cent and was too proud to borrow from the parents.”
“Not everyone has a talent such as yours.”
“But I didn’t know that I had a talent. You can never come to that conclusion, to suddenly wake up and think ‘shit, I have talent.’ You just do what you do. I’m generally interested in music. I like writing music, reading about music, collecting music, and talking about music.
“Of course one had a rock star dream, when one was younger, to be Matthias Jabs from Scorpion. But when it all starts rolling there’s no time to reflect over it. Suddenly you have a life as a musician and can you support yourself through it. But it’s happened gradually. Through a lot of years we had nothing, nobody cared, we did some albums but got no tours. Everyone pretty much gave a crap about us, But since we kept going…
“From the second wave of death metal it’s pretty much In Flames, Dark Tranquility and us left. There were so fucking many bands for a while, but I suppose they couldn’t deal when it doesn’t work. But I had made up my mind that I didn’t want to do anything that I didn’t enjoy. I’ve tried it, I worked at a gas station, changing tires on cars. That was no fucking fun.”

“What you said about being able to quit Opeth tomorrow sounds like an odd comment from someone at the peak of his career and who just signed a fat record deal.”
“Yes, but for me it’s just a band. Even if it didn’t exist I would still write music. Let’s say we split up today, I would still be writing music and the next thing I produced would sound like the next Opeth album. Probably. I love playing in the band, no doubt about it, but I want walk through corpses for it. I’m mostly concerned about my family right now, and my own interests. The other guys are basically at the same position as me, as in that they could find other guys to play with. But I’m not saying we’re breaking up or anything, even if that’s what it sounds like.”
“Yeah it really sounds like it.”
“Yes, but that’s not the case. I’m really excited about the band, but I’m not afraid that it will split up, like ‘then I won’t have anything left’. It’s amazing that everyone in the band lives by this, that we do our albums, tour, and people like it. It’s cool, but it’s not the end of the world if it would end. I think all bands that have been going for a certain time feel the same way.”
“That depends a lot on what kind of band and what kind of member of the band you are. You’re the brains and big star of Opeth. After a split you’d still be high game.”
“Yes, I hope so.”
“But there wouldn’t be the same interest for the other band members.”
“Well, I do think there would be a big interest for them and what they do next as well. I want to believe that Opeth, to a certain degree, has a lot of cred among the people. Also, we are considered to be ‘talented’.”
“You say that with quotationmarks.”
“Yes, but it’s really like that. We’re clumsy! I’m sure they could make it in many other bands. Martin, Martin, Peter and Per write music, they’re not like some rednecks who just plunk away. They got their shit down.”

Soundscan measures and registers the records sales in the US. The majority of the stores reports to them. Close-Up has looked into the numbers for Opeths albums as of June 27th this year:
Orchid (1995): 22,306
Morningrise (1996): 23,332
My Arms, Your Hearse (1998): 28,867
Still Life (1999): 23,377
Blackwater Park (2001): 63,251
Deliverance (2002): 47,510
Damnation (2003): 49,951
After the closing of MFN the band, with above sales in their bag, was high game on the market. About 30 competitors made their interest known, whereof two major companies: Sony and Warner. The disgraceful bid of Warner was quickly dismissed, and in the end Roadrunner came out ahead of the game.
“If I’m going to sign up for a major company I’m going to have a fat contract. People think we signed to Roadrunner for the money, but that’s not true. It’s not a bad deal, but if it was money we wanted there were better deals.”
It is notable that Roadrunner’s most powerful office, the New York one, signed the band directly. That kind of an alliance has never been made with a Swedish band before.
The aim is clearly set on the US.
Mike Gitter, a representative for the Roadrunner signing, is thrilled about the new favourite.
“Opeth is a band who lives and breathes challenging, uncompromising fields like Mars Volta, Tool and Radiohead. The band exists in its own genre, and there are a lot of people who aren’t fans of metal that should hear them. What our expectations look like? Just by making sure Opeth gets heard a not inconsiderable amount of records will be sold.”
Up until now the marketing in the US has been taken care of by first Century Media (the first three albums on license from Candlelight), Peaceville (Still Life), and then Koch, through a license with MFN. With a resourceful partner it is as good as given that great commercial success will be rendered.
“With Opeth nothing is given, but everything is apparent. Mikael Åkerfeldt possesses one of the contemporary most dynamic rock voices. The guy is a fabulous song writer – who else could write a ten-minute piece who breaks all norms of verse/refrain scheme and still make every part of it enchanting? Could Opeth write a ‘hit song’? Of course! I believe they’ve made several already. Now we’ll just have to see if the world can open its eyes.”

Who wants to be a millionaire? For Mikael Åkerfeldt it’s as if he’s accomplished this 7-figure state of being through pure skillfulness. By the time you read this he has signed a publishing contract that gives him a neat little advance pay.
“On the paper you’re a millionaire.”
“Well, on the paper I am, and because I am the member of the band who makes the most money. We have a couple of different companies, I know nothing about all that or what it means. If it’s that kind of figures, or really any kind, it goes into this company. And when I receive this money I’m going to put as much of it as possible into the company so we can pay salaries and stuff.
“There will be some left since it’s more when it’s a publishing contract, so maybe one should buy a house. Otherwise I’ll just burn it on records, and now I have a family and daughter, so it feels right to invest in a house. But it also feels impossible since I’m a loser, I can’t keep track of shit like that. For me to have a house, that’s just impossible.”
“A house with a studio in the basement.”
“Yes, it sounds like a dream, but it doesn’t fit me. I mean, I could never arrange a thing like that. I’m just gliding through life. Especially when it comes to the apartment issue. There was a year when I didn’t have anywhere to live and I slept on the couch at someone’s place. Then I rented an apartment second hand. I had no money, no income. And to go from that place – where I think I still am, Anna’s is the name of this contract – to putting money down on a house, I don’t think it will happen. If it happens it would be cool. I like it here, so if I was going to change it would have to be a really neat house.
“I would never feel like I didn’t deserved it. Let’s say Opeth would have a break-through, sell millions of albums and make a load of cash. If that’s success we deserve it. But it’ll never happen.”
“Are you generally pessimistic?”
“Isn’t everybody? I don’t come from a bad background. I had a good upbringing and my family was working class, not poor, but not rich either. In one sense it doesn’t feel serious to be death metal musician and put money down on a house made from screaming.”
“Would you say it’s less classy to scream than to sing?”
“I sing too, you know!”
“D’oh!”
“In actuality I guess it’s pretty accepted, but my thoughts still go back to when I had to drag my little 20W-marshall through the forest to get to the rehearsal place. All of a sudden you’re in a life you’ve created out of nothing and make a living on. Every time we sign a new contract there’s more money for us and buying a house is a topic. Our manager tells us where to invest if we make money. It feels pretty distant, as if I was still carrying that little amplifier.
“We’ve been at it for so long, it’s never been like one day you have nothing and the next a Rolls Royce comes to pick you up. Of course it’s not like that, but when I talk about getting a house, I almost get that feeling.”

A whole evening has gone by, and despite a great consumption of coffee, the thirty-year-old has not been to the bathroom yet. Myself, I’ve gone several times, perhaps because the ghost hunter in me unconsciously makes me.
“I have the world’s biggest bladder” says Mikael.
We’ve been sitting in the living room the whole time. In the bedroom sleeps the daughter Melinda, born September 13th last year and named after the central figure of the concept album Still Life. The cats Maurice the Bracy and Issac of York named from characters in Ivanhoe, skulk around the apartment.
In the work room Anna is surfing. Mikael picked up this web designer by suggesting she come back to his place so he could study her homepage knowledge. Today she takes care of Opeth’s official homepage.
In two soda trays in this office lies the base of the artist’s dream. In his youth he wanted to accomplish three things: To become a musician, work in a music store and work in a music instrument store. These have been accomplished, and soon the next thing is coming up.
“I’m going to open a record store. It’s not going to be big. It should be expensive, but good.”
Exactly how that’s going to happen I don’t know. Today, like most other days, new packages with vinyl records have arrived. With eyes wide the scratches are inspected and the covers are fingered. That this arch nerd of music nerds should be able to separate from one single album without separation anxiety seems most unlikely.
“One month I didn’t think I had spent all that much on records, and it turned out it was 11,000 SEK (~ 1,500$).
After a US tour most of the money made from shirt sales was spent on lps. Exactly how much that was he doesn’t want to tell me, but after fishing for it for a while I conclude it’s somewhere around 50,000 SEK (6,500$).
Not so strange that Mikael is portrayed as charmingly squared. For instance, he’s never heard of 3G-telephony (latest cell phone network in Europe, which has existed in reality for about a year), which makes Anna exclaim:
“But Mikael, you who are so well-informed…”
I take a last look in the study. In a corner stands the very small home studio – the wonder of technology, you know – and above, on the wall, hangs a large painting of Ludvig van Beethoven as well as two smaller portraits of Chopin and Franz Liszt.
Most suitable. Three classic composers and geniuses. Just as Mikael is usually called – a genius.
“I guess one is a genius,” he laughs disarmingly.
I go out into the foyer and put on my shoes. From the bathroom I hear a steady, never-ceasing sound. It’s not a ghost, Just the world’s largest bladder playing a symphony.
_________________
 
*points to self*

I hope you can separate Mikael from the interviewer, in the original I used bold and italics to help. Oh well *shrug*
 
Nitronium Blood said:
Thanks for the link and for the supposed translation by Johan.

Why would Mikael get married and have a kid, when he supposedly has no money?

There's nothing supposed about it... and what link?

As for the family and finance issues, in Sweden you can always get by. Plus his wife works too. So.
 
"Hey, there was one thing I thought about concerning this question from Record Collector: ‘Which is the best album to have sex to?’. What happened wasn’t with my wife, but an ex. I don’t remember exactly what we listened to, but I was fooling around with my girl and I just HAD to mark a drumbeat. She was so fucking pissed."

That's hilarious. Awesome interview.
 
How can people think this dude has sold out? More than any other musician he comes across as someone whose sole interest and love in life is music. This isn't a guy worrying about marketing strategies or venue size or coming up with a catchy radio single or taking the most appealing band photos. If you can't get behind this guys attitude towards making music than I don't think you will ever be satisfied by any band ever. But maybe that's the point.