Norwegian (Nu) Disco: Lindstrøm
From the Norwegian outskirts came a man with a sampler, and thus, NND was born.
The (nu) end is almost nigh, our (nu) children … but before the rapture that will be tomorrow’s NND mix, let’s talk Lindstrøm. As in Hans-Peter, not as in the Minnesotan city that considers itself “America’s Little Sweden.” (That teapot-shaped water tower tho.)
Now, you may not know it, but we are really just part-time NND proselytizers. Sacrifice as we way to the music deities, we’ve yet to find a pot of gold under our pillows, which means we theoretically have those dirty devilish things called day jobs. (Collective shudder.) And, we may have scribbled today’s sermon on the back of some highly sensitive and important work-type documents, in ink that was decidedly not (pool)water resistant. Thus, we are even more so than usual making this up as we go along.
Hans-Peter was born (we assume? we have it on pretty good authority, we think). And then he was a child, and he thought like a child. And those thoughts didn’t really include dance music. No, brothers and sisters. He led a simple life, really. Just him, and some trees probably? We don’t know from Norway.
His formative years were spent listening to country and western music (if we’re lyin,’ we’re dyin’). As he got older, he started playing piano in a gospel choir and eventually took up the Hammond organ in a Deep Purple tribute band (O.M.G. twinsies!). Below is an actual pic of the Hammond organ he didn’t use.
Then, like in all good religious/origin myths, our protagonist gave it all up. “Screw this music shit, I’m going to college to learn about real stuff, like literature,” he said (well, in Norwegian). But oh, NND brothers and sisters! How strong the siren song! So, and we’re not making this up, with no background whatsoever in DJing or electronic music, and having never even ever really listened to dance music, he bought a sampler and decided “Huh. Guess I’ll try this.”
And, lo!! Unto the world a prolific DJ, mixer and producer was born. And praise be to the great disco ball in the sky, he did bestow upon us some of the best NND offerings out there.
Well, hell fire and damnation. We’re not saying we have a conference call in 10 minutes, we’re just saying we’re going to drop in some actual music and send this out in less than 9 minutes. We’ll just slide these in and out real quick and hope we hit the mark. Kind of like your prom date. You can keep the corsage.
Can we get a DIG IT.
We’ll start with a quick comparison, just to wrap up the week with a really clear picture of how the NND influences come into play — this time with Lindstrøm reinterpreting himself.
What we love about these two side by side is that you get a real sense for both Lindstrøm’s influences (the piano/organ force is strong with this one) his tastes at the time (in the early 2000s he was quoted as saying he thought the music of the 60s and 70s had more interesting song writing and production value).
The original is decidedly funky, but with a bit of an 80s vibe. There are moments when any combination of James Brown, Prince or Morris Day could be just walking on stage to grab the mic … but you also can’t mistake Lindstrøm’s love of jazz, with him tickling those ivories like it’s 3 am at the Mutual Musician’s Foundation. Oh, and let’s not forget the lasers. Because, Norway?
And then, there’s the Disco Version. Well … what can we say? It doesn’t get more NND than this song, really. We’re floating on … air. It’s just air.
Ok. We have 3 minutes left, so we’ll inject your soul with just enough NND to tide you over until tomorrow’s big fix.
Breathe it in. One minute left til’ what will only feel like eternal damnation.
Thanks for dropping by, our NND brethren. Until tomorrow: peace and (free) love.