»Who ever said that music is ‘just’ music? To me, it is anything but that: an urge to understand and explain it all. A piece of jewelry I wear every single day. A joy that can, at times, run deep. An ever-changing imprint of millions of stitches in my heart. A longing to disappear.«
Henrik Marstal is a musician, author, and music researcher. He holds a PhD in musicology, is a senior lecturer at the Rhythmic Music Conservatory, and frequently appears in the media as an expert source on music. His areas of interest include contemporary music, such as electronic music. This winter, he will release both a new album with the pop group ibens and a book about Else Marie Pade, published by the British publishing house Bloomsbury.
One's death, the other's dance floor
He does not want to be political, he says in interviews. The listener must make up his own mind, the artist must not dictate anything. So that's why Jacob Kirkegaard with Landet (The Land) – a commissioned piece for Gong Tomorrow – created a completely neutral portrait of Danish agriculture... that sounded like hell on earth.
We stood huddled together between four speakers and listened intently for an hour. To the pigs' machines, to the cattle's, to the chickens: hydraulic suction, metallic meat grinders and deafening noise. All experienced at such close range and with such crystal clear recording that you got the acute feeling of being the next animal on the slaughter bench.
But not only that. Kirkegaard, the scoundrel, had seen with devilish agility the potential in the industrial rhythm of the machines. Just as you stood frozen in fear, he created hard techno out of the inferno. Separated the treble hiss from the dumpy bass, got down to the fundamentals of the sound, and forced us to rock to the beat of the horror. And perhaps worst of all: the animals were mercilessly absent, only the machines spoke.
I am ashamed to admit that it was very fascinating. Some machines hid like hidden alarms in the background, others lay smouldering, while a few stepped forward and became frenetic beats, staged by white noise brushes and darkness falling in the room.
Well, he pulled ashore a little halfway through the piece and led us out into the light: to manure spreaders and windmills, where the sound wasn't shot right back into our heads. And thereby perhaps saved us from eternal perdition. Fair enough. Thank you, well. But also: Party pooper!
»For me, music is at its best when it appeals to both the head and the heart. I love music that plays with language and understands how words create images, while also possessing its own unique sonic quality and mood. It’s an added bonus if the music energizes me during a run, makes me dance in the kitchen, or makes me laugh. Or cry. Music can be like a chocolate-coated marshmallow treat with a surprise inside.«
Lone Hørslev is an author of poetry, novels, and song lyrics, as well as the TV series Den gode stemning. Together with Mads Mouritz, she forms one half of the Mouritz/Hørslev Project, and she recently wrote lyrics for the musical theatre production STOLT in collaboration with Katrine Muff. The songs can be found on the album Jeg ønsker mig.
»For us, music is... magic? Aside from the fact that we are huge fans of silence, the closing line of one of our upcoming singles perfectly captures our relationship with music:
'Music feels like magic to me / A superior art form in a marketplace / Trying to find an empty space'.
That is what it can feel like as a songwriter and performing musician. We try to hold onto an almost childlike infatuation with music, yet the art form we work in – alternative-leaning pop-rock – was created and has evolved 'in a marketplace' driven by powerful economic forces. As a romantic, that can sometimes be a bit disheartening...«
Late Runner consists of Asger Tarpgaard and Tanja Forsberg Simonsen, both formerly of the bands Superheroes and Private.