Scan Magazine
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Culture
| Columns
Scandinavian music By Karl Batterbee
This month, each of the ‘big five’ Nordic nations are putting forward their best pop prospects for your listening pleasure. After delivering what was arguably *the* hit of the year in Sweden in 2021, Lose My Mind, Myra Granberg is back with a brand-new single, Highlights. It’s another Myra pop classic in the making, but this time with the tempo turned down to medium and the bassline turned up to max. The funk is strong with this one. Norwegian super-duo Röyksopp have collaborated with another of Norway’s biggest pop exports on their latest tune – featuring Astrid S, they’re out with Breathe. An electronica epic plays out before you, hurtling from a semi-lucid start to a fullblown euphoric climax, gladly taking you along on the five-minute ride with it. The latest single from Finnish bopmaker, Titta, is Ihana Mies. Herein lies a
track that has seemingly all the best bits of modern influences from ‘80s pop, bundled together and with a particularly neon hue shone upon them. It’s a heady concoction that works splendidly. Icelandic artist Daniel Oliver is out with his first release of 2022, ahead of the launch of an album later in the year. First, Pop is the new single, a celebration of those blissful first flushes of romance – or, as turns out to be the case in this song, a bittersweet reflection on those very feelings that indeed once were, but are no longer. Fret not about the mood – it’s elevated by an infectiously dreamy chorus that takes a more pragmatic view on the situation. After debuting last year, Danish rockers Kalaset are back with a second single, Kaos Kan Være Smukt. They return with more of what made us all fall for them the
first time around: retro glam, incredible pop melodies (and harmonies), and synths that are pure joy. Web: www.scandipop.co.uk
Childhood memories and a silly wig By Gabi Froden
I recently found an old photograph of me as a three-year-old in our cabin by the lake. The wallpaper behind me is blue and flowery, and the coffee cups on the table are small and flowery too. I am wearing a silly wig. Next to me is my granddad, tanned and lean, and my great-granny in her orange ‘70s polyester number. Everyone is laughing. But not at me and my silly wig. We are laughing together. I look happy but unaware of how lucky I am to be sitting by a lake in the Swedish countryside, feasting on buns. I can almost hear the birds over the water and smell the petrol from the mower now – familiar senses from my childhood. Sometimes I forget that I was once surrounded by several generations of loving family. What a beautiful gift. When you don’t live where you grew up, you can feel a little rootless at times, a little lost. Sometimes I 102
| Issue 141
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April 2022
FaceTime a lot or celebrate every cultural highlight with fervor. This spring, I think I might just throw on a silly wig, drive out to a Scottish loch with a bag of buns and remember that my memories of family and childhood can live on here. And, most of all, that it is OK to sometimes wish you were still three years old and back in Sweden with your grandad.
envy people who live near their old haunts, memories present in their daily life. I am sure that can be claustrophobic too, but when you miss having family around you, it seems really lovely, and safe. I know my exile is a choice, and therefore a luxury in itself, but I don’t know what you do when you feel far away. Maybe you
Gabi Froden is a Swedish illustrator and writer, living in Glasgow with her husband and two children. Her children’s and YA books are published in Sweden by Bonnier Carlsen and Natur&Kultur. www.gabifroden.com
