Warmer Climes: Hurt. What's the fuckin' coolness in posting daily random pictures on your various Tumblrs instead of, let's say, honouring my imaginary mixtapes project invitation?...The one I first sent six months ago. Am I an annoying freak who doesn't understand some variables? Am I so fuckin' useless that some celebrities like you, known around the world as big fuckin' mysterious dudes, who release one song in a year, can't entertain my invitation?...I just wanted to promo you in a fuckin' precious way and you seem to not get it. More than that: You don't NEED it, right? Oh, you're so busy and brilliant...My ass...Be real. Be close. Some music featuring a nice exclusive video with some old bullshit divorced from Ireland isn't enough for some of us. Even if the song is fuckin' gorgeous and with smart comforting lyrics. I like things that comes to me, in my hands, that look me in the eyes and tell me it's OK. This swedish distance that you're all wearing...Makes me spit. Time means money, I know. You are probably nerds who works in big companies in real life. But is it always just about being eternal busy and with pseudo-mysterious? Is this general refusal to TALK your revenge for some problems you had in your teenage years? Or this is how ignorance of rich and peaceful Scandinavians looks like. You are soon close to that 49 yo divorced Ian shit. You should think about it more and open your hearts once in a while, for some intentions that consider themselves pretty good. That comes from some people from far away who needs some words from you, not just music. Well, I am one of those who can't be thankful just with some mp3s silently dropped in a digital store. I hate Pitchfork and press mass style to treat musicians. I need TOUCH, FEELING, DREAMING, HUMAN CLOSENESS...Some of us are damn alone, y'know...I'm one of those bastards dying in a empty house like that sad shit in the new video. C'est la vie?! I doubt it. There must be something more. Must be hope...Must be connection. Til death will conquer. Tell Lissvik, jj and Sweden to suck my frustrated Romanian cock. You never give interviews. I shit on that. I need a connection with the monsters behind. That irony you've been testing with You Tend To Forget, making people to offer more money for the exclusive-signed 3 vinyls on eBay, was enough. World is stupid, but not entirely.
Fredrik Lindson: Well, when a request comes to collect your all time 10 fave songs I take it pretty seriously and have been working on a list during the winter. It contains Bobby Reed, Prefab Sprout, T-Rex, Manchester Mekon amongs others. Not very quick worker I know, but I have had it in mind all the time. About the Tumblr posting...I haven't posted a single thing, Torbjörn taught me how to do last week. The Embassy lives separate lives. I love the thought of your list. Sorry it ran out of time. After all...I am, as you mention, pretty old. Touching from a distance.
Warmer Climes: ...Then I totally take my ugly words back. You should've told me you're working on it. No answer since September from you. For me was like talking to a wall. I felt damn pissed off and I live a pathetic moment in my life, 23 yo with no direction...After lots of efforts to do something big with my useless existence...I feel like never before about all my shitty story, stucked with my destiny. I am sorry. Loneliness made me do it. Leg 6. Fear made me do it. I love music hysterically and I planned this blog to have special things on it. I want to make it different. To bring the best together, with their hearts a bit more opened, talking about memories, letting us to explore in some new ways their feelings, their hearts...I feel like many others the urge to connect with you. Almost in a Britney Spears-fan way. To be with you. To see you. To understand you even better. It's like a mirror. The desire to look in a mirror. To touch a mirror. I felt/feel LEFT BEHIND by many swedish artists...I am a big fan of Boat Club for example...Magnus still doesn't get it...That I want a stupid sign of friendship...Maybe I am schizophrenic, maybe I go too far, maybe I'm losing colour and sense of the real world...Eric of TTA asked me last July...Why? Why are you doing this project?...I fuckin' want to express in a different way the entire Sweden...The way I feel it...This is my balloon, my corner of reality, pieces of my worst fears, my wrongandright...I am sick of walls, walls, walls, and bullshit press presentations...Sick of your cryptic official sites that look like exploring Egyptian pyramids and not a warm band with true songs that wants to be the hymn of your heart forever. From my outside...I see people desperately in love with your work...Admiring you, spending months, just like me, trying to create something that builds a picture who includes YOU AND US. Not YOU THERE, US HERE. Internet is crazy. Information doesn't stay conservative anymore...Everybody has everything. Notion of freedom wins new dimensions. I feel this lack of touch...Of dreaming with music. Joel of Air France told me...Don't be afraid, don't take it too seriously, Swedish people are distant by default. They all have this we-don't-talk-to-you-if-we-don't-know-you...Between you and fans is always a stupid awful management that keep you like diamonds, too far from lovers hearts. Yeah, it's dangerous to be friendly and opened sometimes. But this is not the case. I'm just hysterically annoyed by silence. You are not old now. But you will be. You are the symbol of...MANY SYMBOLS. I love you as Creator(s) of something almost unreal, full of truth and preciousness. Your songs still keeps that purity well protected and safe. But your voice is sometimes like a butterfly in a trap. Too far. The way I feel music, (basically a Björk/The Verve lover), is more like in fairytales...I always expect for some magic ants and sparks to come and save me, to surround me, sing to me, to hug me, to keep me. I am alone. Alone with everybody. Music heals. You, miracles, heal souls like mine. This blog is almost a silent revenge...For not having the things that I want...For not being free...For not having the chance to change my puzzle and choices. I am ready to treat you with all my respect. I know, musically at least, who you are and what you represent in my heart. I was talking dirty and gone violent 'cause I care too much about you and these details...And sometimes I gave up loving...Some take it as a joke...But I don't take it like that at all. This is not just playing and writing fun about some good tracks...It's an exercise to look straight into your brother's heart, to compare your feelings with others, to explore, search, find, understand things you will probably never know in other ways...This imaginary mixtapes project is a fantasy. My magic. Didn't know about Tumblr posts...I thought you posted them...Once again, I am sorry now. Now that you exist again. Here. Not just there...I'm 23, but I feel older and bored. And also act like a 12 yo unhappy with his toys. I miss some life around. I need something that I never had. I need to live MY freedom. But I am like Ian in the video...Almost everyday...How the fuck have I become such a failure?...I hate making efforts in wrong directions. That's why I've been so bad with you. I'm tired and I trust music in some almost unhealthy ways. Maybe I should stop. Maybe not. Your songs are so easy. Simplicity. But yet so hard to swallow. Cause they are permanently real. Hurts, dig holes in painful secret rooms, also kiss your neck and fingers and embrace you like you play them at The Finish Line...Nothing is logical. Life is cynical. I complain too much. Nobody will save me. Or hear me. Masks. There's just you, in my headphones, whispering impossible places...It's gonna happen someday...
Fredrik Lindson: I totally agree about my lack of answers, I give you that. But I think we might have slightly different views on pop music and what to expect from it. To me it's very vague, it's to suddenly lift us from the ground, passing dreams, sheer beauty, a hope of another world...Not to make friends. I've never had troubles with walls, they sometimes fill a function. The whole experience is in my head anyway. I remember in my early age I saw a Saint Etienne-gig and it had all the magical aspects I talked about earlier. Afterwards I saw Bob Stanley in the bar, very good looking, but the spell was broken. There and then I decided if I ever start a band I shouldn't do the same mistake. I think meeting your idols always leads to dissappointment anyway. And the popscene these days has become way too friendly. Your mixtapes is a brilliant idea!...Very enough and...A perfect dialogue between reader and writer. Rock on!
Warmer Climes: It's like...All I ever wanted to love never noticed me. I should update my friendship notions...An honour to share my darkness with someone like you. Warmer Mixtapes is not only a chance to present your point of view about music, how you see The World, and what you love...It's also a chance to open my heart and let them know what burns inside of me. My mixtape is the blog itself. A double exercise of Sincerely Yours. Enough with my tongue blocked inside Sweden's rich ass. Escaping my ambitions, escaping the rat race. Le spectacle en général, comme inversion concrète de la vie, est le mouvement autonome du non-vivant...Right!...I'm gay in much more adorable ways than Brideshead Revisited. No more heroes. Period. 1986-