It's midsummer's eve today, the last and strongest indication that summer is really here. After a long and tedious winter it's more than reasonable to celebrate this day and to make it a national holiday. I don't see why nobody else celebrates it except from us scandinavians? We are however the ones who struggles with winter for two thirds of the year so that's why we have to eat, drink, dance and enjoy ourselves a bit more. Plus the very cute and silly tradition of running over a field just to pick seven different flowers, put them under your pillow and then dream about the one you love and hopefully you'll get him/her. First I need to find a field though and someone I like…#midsummernightmares
/// Been there, done that
Enjoy your midsummer weekend! But remember to forget the sun and glue yourself to the TV because Glasto has officially started! I (UNFORTUNATELY) am not there OR in England (double bumper) so I'll be downloading the BBC coverage watch it then weep.
I hate adding stuff randomly after I've posted a post but I genuinely forgot that I wanted to share this.
/// Kings of Leon documentary
How much do you really want to know about a band? honest? A movie like this can either make or break a band, it's like seeing a movie after you've read the book. 7/10 times it's crap and you get disappointed. Just sayin'….
Maybe you just make me sick and that's why I do outrages shit!
/// Ghostpoet feat. Kano - Cash and Carry Me Home
Desperately trying to forget the weekend especially saturday, why oh God why do I have to be such a sourpuss when I'm mildly intoxicated? I've noticed that I get even more stubborn when I'm a bit drunk which evidently led me to stop contributing to the djing half way through last saturday. I just couldn't stand the swedish peoples taste in music that evening, when will they learn and go forward?! The world is filled with good music and new really great music gets produced everyday, so why do we stick to playing the same tracks over and over again at every club night?!
I kind of really fucked it up to be honest, couldn't I've just stuck with it and against my will played those tunes I hate so much? Nope, apparently I couldn't so our (me and my friends) plans of showing of our dj-skills and great music taste to a dj who run a lot of club nights here in Sthlm pretty much failed. I'm starting to doubt whether or not it's wise to head into the world of djing if I'm going to continue to be the music-dictator I am.
°*°*This sums up my feelings when I woke up yesterday:°*°*
My hand grip whiskey like a newborn child
Last night I must admit it got quite wild now
Morning's approached and I wrestle with a headache
That was spawned in hell by the devil himself
Now was not quite clear
But I wonder what shenanigans brought me here
While I'm cryin' out loud and I'm feeling quite sorry for myself
I need to check my health
Cause I ain't mashing no one but myself-self self self self
°*°*This sums up the rest of mylife°*°*
I'm all on my own
Smashed up my phone,
Not sure of whereabouts
My mum kept on callin' me just tellin' me to sort it out, sort it out
Mum look, readin' books and takin' tests won't take away the pain in chest
The aching limbs decide to vapor, sparked up your cigarette
Lookin' out the window at the world, I just ain't ready yet
Such things just get me stressed,
Grey hairs are springin' up and I'm startin' to shake a bit
I'm still got some whiskey left, maybe I'll just take a sip
Juvenile rantingsPosted by Stella Mon, May 23, 2011 00:07:31 I have found my calling. I shall become a writer. And my first book shall be called "drunk texts - boozed up rants from a Swedish tourist"
WHY DO I NEVER LEARN?
For some reason the majority of this week's nights have turned a happy fog of beer, vodka lime and Jack and Black. Quite harmless but absolutely hazardous as soon as that is mixed with a phone. I have kind of bought the myth about myself being the greatest drunk texter in the world and it has slowly replaced my macho complex while on a bender. These days I just crave to misspell as many lies and desperate cries for help as possible from a toilet floor to anyone who can be bothered to listen. That someone is usually one of three hobbits. Sometimes all of them at once. Even Ylva has had her fair share. The top of the list this far is probably sending "punani whats my name?" to Mr Green, closely followed by "i'm so stupid to say no to regular sex" to Mr Baby Love. And the list keeps on growing. Despite that though, I fully intend to go through with my new and all consuming mission; to get the number to my new hang up and the love of my life (hark hark) Mr JJ also known as The Hawley guy with the slippery haircut. He is nowadays the reason for me spending all my money, time and dignity on going to, drinking in and making a mess in Camden. Which I love and would gladly do anyway. But since I am now on a pigheaded mission of getting J's number to add to the treacherous space in my phone, I am even more encouraged to spend money I don't have on beer that I don't really need. Ah the sweet sensation of taking a crush too far. But who wouldn't fall head first for a guy with a very questionable haircut, a lisp and the kindest eyes?
Woke up today completely freed from essay work and shit but found myself quite bored. So what do you do? CLEAN YOUR FUCKING ROOM!
So yeah, I'm cleaning this bombshell of a room. I really don't understand how people keep their rooms tidy for a whole week straight. It's a mystery as well as an accomplishment in my eyes. Besides realizing how bored I am and cleaning my room I thought of the blog and how I yet again have manage to be this absent bitch (starting to wonder if I'll ever be able to keep a boyfriend:/) since I landed in Stockholm.
London has this weird effect on you were it seems to bring you down to the lowest, shabbiest and darkest gutter in the world and then leave you there screaming for more. Because you initially want to stay, you cry like the big baby you are on the plane (I hope this goes as a general action when leaving London or is it just me?) but at the same time you're relieved, you get to leave the place that slowly brakes you down.
When reaching Stockholm I felt like I've reached the bottom, no money, no job, no prospects just hopeful dreaming. It didn't however take long till things started looking up! The summer got saved by me finally getting a job! Yes a proper job, not the alternative all of us on this blog have been leaning towards. You're looking/reading about the newly employed sales assistant at Beyond Retro here in Stockholm. So if you're ever in Stockholm come and say hi to me at our store in SoFo.
The road of opportunities lies before me, life is sweet, I'll be bring in the cash money ya'll, uni is practically done (even though we still have some oral examination of our essays to do and my essay will probably be butchered because of its lack of substance) and all the fun exciting summer project may begin. There is festivals to be planned, music to be composed, trips to be done, drinks to be drunk, books to be read, people to be charmed, photos to be taken, djing to be done and lots of lots of blogging to be done. This is the summer I've been longing for since I was 15 and stared out my window watching the sun come up and another summer go by.
I know that I occasionally write these kinds of posts when I am my own pepprally and feed you with my thoughts of missions/goals to complete. Which quite often ends up with me completing maybe one or two things and for the rest of the time lie lazy in my bed and surf the void. Changes are on its way and determination is in sight!
This summer will be a success!
This song sums it up really well, it's a new band from Gothenburg and they've just released their debut album. I hope ya'll know your swedish…
/// Det Vackra Livet - Vi Ägde Världen
Unfortunately they're so new so the song I wanted to post can't be found on the web…I'll repost it when I find it!
much luv your forever dreaming gibs
°*the picture is from one of my analog films from the Africa trip°*
Juvenile rantingsPosted by Stella Wed, May 11, 2011 01:19:58 Sir, we kindly ask you to bring this letter forward to Paul Campbell from London regarding his letter in the May issue subject: co-resign
We are two Swedish indie cunts in exile. Where we come from it is so fucking cold that people have nothing better to do than to gently caress their MacBooks while having a wank over whatever blog that's #trending that week. So we moved to London, hoping that by doing so we'd get a tad bit closer to the 'real thing'. The real thing being love for music, a sense of uniting together against the eyesore that is Simon Cowell and in general have a good time celebrating that we're young and have kick ass taste in music. Little did we know that the East London indie elite had been inspired by the Swedish chill and become even more inaccessible than before. It got a bit tedious hearing about every band from Oxford walking their way into the spotlight, safely herded by a Mr Phillipakis that smokes 666 fags a day just because he can and is too indie to die. And so, after going through every back alley in Dalston and reading too many interviews with bands quoting Cambodia pre 75 as their biggest period of inspiration, we have made up or minds. Paul, we want to co-resign with you.
Trying as hard as we can to keep up with every new special edition 7" hidden in a fucking easter egg-release, convincing ourselves that it is most essential to have exactly that version, we can't help but feel that it isn't 100% satisfying. Especially not when a lot of the music seems to be made by a five year old tripping on acid and taking it out on a synth. And when we read your letter we were glad to see that we weren't alone in feeling that way. Indie for indie's sake is indeed shit. So thanks for being a like minded spirit. We will now run around East London being hopelessly un cool, but comfortably reassured by the fact that somewhere out there is a companion of nerdiness.
Juvenile rantingsPosted by JD Mon, April 18, 2011 00:28:16 Something is wrong with me. I'm mad. One second I'm happier than I've ever been before and the next I'm crying over the fact that I need to top up my oyster, then I start laughing over the fact that I'm crying. What is that? Why is that?
Being the nutcase I am maybe I should have thought twice before going to the play I went to last night. It was about a mental hospital and the audience was part of the play.
Basically, you walked around in different rooms and you were either a visitor, patient or staff and did things you to play the part. Talked to patients, played board games with them, name games, breathing exercises, had dinner and stuff. Then some proper actors made scenes and stuff and there was a story line. It was fucked up. You can even spend the night there if you wanna and sleep in a hospital bed.
My friends told me all about it before hand so it was not like I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Considering my past and stuff and stuff maybe that wasn't such a good idea, not that it was a bad idea but I should have prepared myself for it. But I'm retarded so I didn't think about that. Mental illness didn't ring any bells.
Half way through the night I walked into a room and sat next to a girl laying on a hospital bed. She was all pale, lifeless and was black and blue around her neck. I knew well enough what that was. All too well. Couldn't take my eyes off her. It was weird, I knew she was acting and that she was alive and if you touched her she was warm but it still got to me in a way I'm not even gonna try to describe.
Then we had dinner and I was in shock. In my head i was far, far away. The actors where asking me if I was alright and said things like "yeah we know it's not always easy to see your loved ones like this. But at least you know they're in good hands and jabba jabba" they were clearly worried but had to stick to the part. It was fucking with my head. Big time.
When the girl who hung herself did a monolog that was it, I couldn't hold the tears back. I cried for a minute or two and then I started laughing about the fact that I was crying. She came over and talked to me after the show which didn't make things better because she still had that bruise around her neck. Fuck me it was weird.
I couldn't stop thinking about last time. What a paradox. That time it was real, it didn't look real but it was. This time it was the other way around. It was so real to me. So real. Mind fuck taken to a whole new level.
I've been thinking about them old times a lot lately. I don't know why. Actually I do know why, but I don't know why I can't stop. It never bothered me before. It didn't even bother me this much when it happened. Annoying to the max.
I'm gonna stop going on about the good old days and my twisted mind now. But everyone who's in Stockholm should go see this play, or experience it rather, at Teater Giljotin. It was interesting.
All three of us reunited under one roof for approximately six or seven hours of unimaginable juvenile behavior. Talk about florescent adolescence ey?! I just realised one thing this morning when I woke up (not at all hungover, which is a rare thing when you've been to Popaganda) never try to do three things at once. You will fail Harriet! Drinking, mingling and djing don't go hand in hand, one of the above will inevitably go wrong, horribly horribly wrong. I bet that we have a few more haters now than we had before. Just thinking about what we said and did last night in front of a couple of people we know makes me a bit worried. Yes it's fun to be juvenile, we have a whole category devoted to that on our blog for gods sake but being so in front of people you kind of want to "impress" or keep on a "good foot" is just bad. But hey what do I know maybe they see it in another way, maybe were cute, fun, social, smart and energetic girls with a taste for life?
Chapel Club was good, they've really improved since last summer, that was nice to see and Little Majorette was also a nice little surprise which I hope to see more of in the future. Tonight I'm not moving an inch, I'm gonna stay in and watch the live streaming from Coachella at their youtube channel. In Sweden one day of drinking is all you can handle but somehow as soon as you leave this place you're liver screams for alcohol. When talking about leaving I can't help but to express my stress and happiness over the fact that according to the official Camden Crawl twitter it's only seven working days till the craziness is unleashed. Maaaaaan I can't wait to be involved in even more juvenile shenanigans, lots and lots of drinking, music and London.
Here's some smooth pop you can't resist to bob your head to
/// Puro Instinct - Silky Eyes
Oh and if you (like me) will close your door to all social gatherings tonight here is where you can watch Foals, Yelle, Bright Eyes, Two Door Cinema Club, The New Pornographers, The Kills, Elbow just to mention a few on Coachella's webcast.
°°°IF YOU DISAGREE SUCK A COUPLE PIMPLE COVERED DICKS°°°
So much for "short" and with "pics and videos" sorry for that! I think I just had to get that shit off my chest and straight out into the world. Bad idea perhaps?:/
Holy mother of god I'm knee deep in shit and will probably be wondering around in it for a month. Monday couldn't have begun as bad as it did, first of all IT'S (was) MONDAY! Second I woke up an hour late today just because this stupid rule of turning clocks forward and back. Then I had to take a bus which was ricking of last nights throw ups and which circled around the whole fucking suburb… in other words I had a wonderful morning indeed. April will see the destruction of my social life. If somebody is about to free Earl from his boarding school, please swing by and free me as well. I'm tired of this living…yeah and guess what it snowed yesterday…the good times keep rolling on.
My London trip is in any case booked for an April/May visit and after those flight tickets I'm back to being poor again. Hopefully I'll manage to squeeze out a fiver for Ducktails tomorrow.
Once again I fail to make a post about something of interest but I need the five hours that are left until I have to wake up again. Man tomorrow will probably be as shitty as today…