I have been waiting for a new Sons of Perdition album for some time now. In fact, desperately waiting. Patience is a virtue. Their last (and first four-piece) album "Gathered Blood" was released four years ago. The band has since then grown into a five-pece band with Eli Rose as the latest member. The band members are scattered around the globe. This makes music creation different and more difficult. Covid-19 hasn't helped either, I guess. A year ago the bandleader and driving force Zebulon Whatley declared: "We’re hard at work on a weird new album. It will be released when it’s done. I don’t know what it‘s called yet." The sentence "It will be released when it’s done" got stuck. Why? Because Zebulon Whatley is a linguistic illusionist. In other cases, the simple sentence would be obvious for one and all. Not in this case. You have to uncover, look for ambiguities, double, triple or multiple meanings and be observant of any misleading threads. This is a difficult task, even for an exegete like myself. Obviously, the new album will not be released before it's done. But, it could also be interpreted as exactly when, not after it's done. Maybe I'm overanalyzing this. There's no information available about the new album. Very frustrating. I don't know if there's a working title or a tentative album cover (hence the generic image) or anything about the music style. Sons of Perdition took their music in a slightly new direction on "Gathered Blood", more dreamy, evocative and experimental compared with the previous albums. Not to mention the hissing, shrieking and cracking sounds and noise. Still a coherent and very dark album. I don't know what to expect. Uncertainty and speculations are wearing me out. And, it doesn't make the waiting any easier. 

When I grew up the Vietnam war was raging. This was the first televised war. In Sweden, there was a strong anti-war and pro-NLF opinion, read more here (opens in a new window). The slogan was: "USA out of Vietnam". You should organize, mobilize and fund collections. My parents seemed to have missed that memo. I think it's safe to say that they had traditional values. They were not committed to this left-wing movement. And besides, probably too busy supporting and raising three kids. My parents didn't live a rich social life with invitations and dinners. On the contrary, these occassions were rare. However, one visit is etched on my mind. A couple paid us a visit. The guests brought some gifts. The couple gave me the book on the right (translation: Here is North Vietnam!). The album cover stood out. A barrel of a rifle on the back signaling resistance and guerilla warfare. This book wasn't just any book. This was communism for kids. The 39 pages long easy-to-read picture book didn't deal with complicated things like the adaptation of Marxism–Leninism to Vietnamese conditions. Instead, the message was simple. The US president says the American soldiers are there to defend the people of Vietnam. Nowadays, not many people in Sweden believe that. The Vietnamese should decide in Vietnam, they say. Many people understand that the Vietnamese are right when they say that. That is why more and more people are saying: USA out of Vietnam. Here are some snapshots from the content: Ho Chi Minh (Uncle Ho) was loved by his people just like a family member (to underline this: a large portrait hanging on the wall in a Vietnamese home). A woman working at a lathe with her rifle (easily accessible) hanging on the wall behind. Cluster bomb-wounded children in a hospital. Three men posing with machine guns under a NFL-flag with admiring villagers in the background. Don't get me wrong. The Vietnam war was wrong and led to death, destruction and terrible suffering. My objections are about the unreflected personality cult and penchant for weapons. 

My father wasn't amused. On the contrary. The atmosphere got a bit awkward. When the couple had left my father mumbled something in his inimitable accent about "coming to our home and giving my son political propaganda". The guests clearly didn't know my father or his background. Bringing propaganda to the son of a refugee with first-hand experience of communism isn't a very good idea if you want to build relations. As far as I can remember, I never saw the couple again. The book is gone. I think it "got lost" when we moved away to a new place. However, it has become somewhat of a cult book. The second hand price is 250 SEK (almost $30), which is high for a used children's book singing the praises of Uncle Ho. Political propaganda comes in many shapes and forms. Music is one of them. At least, in the hands and service of the Swedish communist party KPML(r), read more here (opens in a new window). They were hardliners under surveillance of the Swedish Security Service. You should check out the "Ballad of Ho Chi Minh" performed by the KPML(r)-affiliated band "Knutna Nävar", translation: "Clenced Fists", originally written by British folk singer, songwriter, labour activist and actor Ewan MacColl in 1954. "Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Minh. Ho, Ho, Ho Chi Minh."

Music is an enigma. Some songs need to grow on you. Other songs hit you right in the feels. I've been listening to music in all my life. The object of my desire has shifted over time. Today, it's gothic country music. 40 years ago it was soul music. I blame my then girlfriend. She loved soul music in any way, shape or form. And, I mean - all - soul music. She didn't like ranking or lists. If you held a gun to her head she would eventually submit and confess that Stevie Wonder's "Songs in the Key of Life" was her favourite album. To her many fine qualities you could add great musical taste. One Saturday night - it must have been around 1980 - we were listening to the radio program "Soul Corner". The program leader Mats Nileskär signed off "It Be's That Way Sometimes" with Joe Simon. The lyrics resonated with me. "Have you ever, have you ever loved somebody / that didn’t love you / It’s hard, it’s hard / And that somebody, that somebody you love / Loves someone else, too / And that pain is so hard to bare / Have you ever been down and out / felt just like you was about to lose your mind / Oh-o, it be's that way sometimes". The song blow me away. I memorized the artist and song title. Another blow came when she broke up with me. Down and out. The lyrics got a new and deeper meaning. I was determined to get a hold of the album. It would turn out to be a difficult task. 

Joe Simon's complete catalogue wasn't available in Swedish record stores. It was hard to find one of his album. The strategy was to ask and seek (this was long before internet). My efforts were fruitless. Most record stores had never heard of him. A ray of hope was lit when I visited "Black Wax Records" in Uppsala in the mid 1980s. At the time, they specialized in soul music. The record store was run by two finnish men. Without any illusions I asked if they, by any chance, knew about the album. The authoritative answer from one of the owners surprised me: "Yes, I have it at home" . Time stood still. The search was over. "Eh, what's the title of the album?", I asked. He replied (vaguely), "I have it at home". I thought that he just didn't remember the title off-the-cuff. "Maybe you could check the album title and I could come back later this week?", I asked. He replied (untrustworthy), "I have it at home". Then I realized that there was no album at home. "I have it at home" (always delivered with an exaggerated finnish accent) quickly became an internal joke for failure to deliver in my circle of acquaintances. I pursued my ask-and-seek strategy. The Bible has comforting words to help you cope. "For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth" (KJV, of course). In the beginning of the 1990s, I found the album at Mega in Stockholm which was Northern Europe's largest record store at the time. Reliving music from the past is associated with high risk. For me, it's 1 or 0. Either, this music is so good or how could I ever listened to this piece of crap. However, the song "It Be's That Way Sometimes" stood the test of time. Listen and weep. A disclaimer, skip the long intro and start listening from 1,35 minutes into the song. The cd is now safely placed in my record shelves. I have it at home. Home at last. 

Until recently, I was convinced of that I attended a concert in 1975 with the british rock band UFO. I have made presumptuous remarks that I - indeed - was there at Jarlateatern (Stockholm) when it happened. The only problem is that UFO never played there. This was a real blow for a person who thinks that he has a good memory and attention to details. I stumbled over the true circumstances when I did some fact-checking for an upcoming blog entry. These are the facts. UFO played at Johanneshov Isstadion (1975) and at Göta Lejon (1977), read more at the site setlist.fm (opens in a new window). I also cross-checked the time and place with UFO fan pages. The result: no UFO, at Jarlateatern, ever. I must have got it all wrong. But, this memory wasn't just wrong. This was false. False memory refers to cases in which people remember events differently from the way they happened or, even, remember events that never happened at all. The painful mistake made me confused and frustrated. I'm 100 percent sure of attending a concert at Jarlateatern. The year and place checks out, but obviously not the band. This is what (I think) I remember. We went to Stockholm to attend the concert. We had no tickets and no money to buy tickets. I don’t recall what the plan was. Still, we went in a risky undertaking. The only risk was to return home empty-handed. We got to the venue and stood outside. It was very cold that night. The gig started. We naively tried to convince the security guards to let us in for free. They just laughed at us. We argued, nagged and begged. Then we humiliated ourselves. Please, please, please mr security guard! Couldn't you find it in your heart to let us in? After a while, they felt sorry or got tired of us. They let us in without a ticket. If my memory serves me well (not sure), we ran to the balcony. Standing, not seated. The band was halfway through their set. But, what band? There are two candidates, Thin Lizzy and the Swedish hard rock band Neon Rose, read more here (opens in a new window). A short disgression about Neon Rose. My classmate (we can call him Carl) had in another context got an autograph from the bassist Benno Mengarelli (who passed away last year) on his home-sewn anorak. His sacrificial mother used her embroidery skills to fill in the ink. However, some doubts were cast upon the authenticity of the autograph. Carl had namely a problem explaining how and when he got the autograph. Some friends thought that he had signed it himself (very unlikely since he had an illegible handwriting) and nick-named him "Forger-Carl". Well, he was known for questionable actions and dubious moral. For example, he stole his little brother's Frank Zappa records and sold them. And then denied to have anything to do with the matter. These actions requires an unscrupulous character. Back to the question: what band? I think it was a foreign band. This speaks in favour of Thin Lizzy. But, I don't think this is right. I attended their concert at Konserthuset in Stockholm 1976. This time we had tickets and good seats. I also got Instamatic pictures. It's very unlikely (but, not impossible) that I saw them again within a year. Therefore, it must have been Neon Rose. This was also their last concert. If that is the case, Neon Rose beats UFO every day of the week. However, I can not vouch for this event. I wish I could call one of the guys that were with me that night. Not possible. Actually, we were not really friends. I only remember one guy. His name was Thomas and he was a talented hockey player, at least when we played on asphalt (never saw him on skates). We used to play until it got so dark that we didn't see a thing. I think I just have to leave the matter, whether it was Thin Lizzy or Neon Rose, for the moment. Maybe it will all come back to me at the retirement home. I will shout out loud. My dentist had their dental surgery at Jarlateatern for a couple of years. Life is strange. At one time, you are young desperately trying to get in to a rock concert. Another time, you are old and the dental hygienist asks if you ever considered teeth whitening. Same person. Same place. Different times. One of my projects is to reconstruct my concert going in the 1970s. I got some old tickets, photos and memories. It's like putting together the Dead Sea Scrolls. Tickets and photos are hard facts. Memory is profoundly more difficult. It obviously plays tricks.         

The setting: The year is 1985. A shabby, but absolute not chic, dorm in Uppsala. Known for its old university founded in 1477. Also known for its student nations, read more here (opens in a new window). A stripped dorm room equipped only with the bare essentials. There it is. A hifi system with a CD player. Needless to say, I got impressed. At the time, a CD player was nearly science fiction; a laser reading 0 and 1. This was unbelievable. No more scratches and hissing. The cd player belonged to my friend Mikael, site architect and web analysts. Back then, he used to test the patience of other students by playing "p: Machinery" by German synthpop group Propaganda on maximum volume (it was the 1980s). I wasn't ready for a cd player. I held on to my Thorens turntable. It wasn't until 1990 that I bought my first cd player. It felt 100 percent safe. I would never have to change format again. This was the future. Anyway, that's what I thought. Twelve years later, in 2002, cd sales peaked and then fell rapidly. In the Sweden cd sales literally plummeted. In fact, a decline of biblical proportions. In 2019 total cd sales revenues was only 55,6 million SEK (6,3 million dollars). CD sales fell with 27 percent compared with the previous year. CD sales was 3,5 percent of total music revenues (same as vinyl). I like cd and I'm too old to change format. Also, I'm too old for despair. I will go under with the ship. And, you will pry my cds out of my cold, dead and decomposed hands.