Smalltalk

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Sorry for the confusion. The reason why I called the Pope an asshole the other day was because I was listening to his annual Christmas Day speech and I became very upset when he touched on the death of Piergiorgio Welby, the italian poet who suffered from muscular dystrophy for 44 years and was facing a very long and painful end to his life. On Dec 19th he asked a doctor to administer anesthesia and turn off the ventilator which he agreed to do, causing his death. After this, Italy's Roman Catholic Church denied him the right to a religious funeral. This of course in order with the church's view on euthanasia and the sanctity of life. But to further condemn the case in the Christmas Day speech seemed to me as extremely insensitive. I had been following the case for some time and this finale I had not expected and I got a bit emotional. All in all , I strongly oppose the Roman Catholic Church's take on euthanasia, stem-cell research, abortions etc but this to me was perhaps a more personal affair.

Anyway, sometimes I don't explain my thoughts here well enough and let's just say the December 25th post was the prime example of this. Sorry about that.

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I started writing a little letter to the lovely Brazilian crowds I met in the last weeks and then stumbled upon a translation tool on the web. I translated it to Portuguese but then realised that most people I met spoke fluent english. So I translated it back, but when it came back it was twisted around somehow. Turned into a strange new language or some kind of odd poetry, expressing everything so much better than I ever could have myself:

" Expensive peoples of Brazil. I had thus much amusement. Debtor, debtor, debtor. Now I am in a home with a fever, but he could himself also be that I lack thus much to it that my body falls distant. Scent of the summer, the music of the samba in the market, the direction of great clothing sense of the middleaged, of your eyes that glimmering in the dark, and your voices that glimmering also but in different way. More diamond likes the way. Also, gratefulness for the registers who you gave to me, I am hearing to good, new and old the melodies now brazilian. And thank you looking that good, the girls were very hot. The guys was too. I desire that I would have the time to go to see carnival in February, or feel the sweaty forehead of the forest of Amazon. But later that the shows I already know this type of craziness and I am heated. "

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I have 35 copies of this extremely limited 7 inch splitsingle for sale. The songs are the same as on the records but begin with a spoken introduction to each song. It's 40 SEK / 4 EUR / 5 USD + shipping. Strictly one record per person. Get a copy by e-mailing annika@jenslekman.com Do not send any money until you've been notified by Annika.

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the Ukulele competition is over. The left hand reached into the big mailbag and picked up this sunset over Wisconsin. Congratulations Andy ! And thank you so much everyone else for all the postcards.

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Hi ! I'm in Stockholm. I just took this picture from the tiny window of my cabin in a cheap boat hotel. It's very pretty here as always. The other night I ran into my old life. My old life was still sitting there on the steps to Medborgarhuset, waiting for someone who never made it into my new life. Eating falafel and throwing bits of pita bread to the pigeons. I didn't stick around too long.

I found out that three of my friends up here are having babies in the new year. Makes me feel like a 5 year old watching the 10 year olds shoplifting. Or a 10 year old watching the 15 year olds french kissing. Or a 15 year old watching the 20 year olds go to a job. Or a 20 year old watching the 25 year olds feeling old.

I'm not a fan of Hemingway but there's a passage in "A Moveable Feast" that I wanted to quote here. But I can't remember what it was, something about standing on a mountain and something about writing the one true word he knew. Nevermind, it doesn't seem to apply anymore.

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Just found out that Pitchfork has posted an article about the ukulele and ok, I will extend the competition one extra week. Sunday the 19th will be the last day. Just remember - a postcard to me is not a letter. Please don't send long letters explaining why you deserve to win, just let me know where you went and your address. This is one of those occasions in your life where your destiny rely on a series of random events.

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I told you where tram # 7 goes. It was a temporary stop. She don't live here anymore, it was a long time since we broke up. Still, taking # 7 from Sahlgrenska down to the Botanical Gardens is , if you do it at the right time, a breathtaking experience. The sky opens up, the tracks underneath creaking, the trees embracing you as you come down from the bridge and into the lushness of Slottskogen. I used to test my songs during this little trip. If they managed to keep me focused despite the heavenly views and the loud creaking, then they had something. The other day I took this trip and listened to the new songs. They did well.

I will tell you more about them later, but not right now. Right now I want to tell you about the other end of the line where I still live. Kortedala. What a depressing suburban hell this place is. Everyone goes to bed at nine, after that you can't see one single window lit up. You can walk for hours without meeting one single person. I used to like that, cause it meant I could go for endless walks and pretend the world was my own and I was the only one in it. But after a while I found out the hard way that there were others who couldn't sleep at night. On my way into town I got beat up and mugged one night three years ago. Since then it's happened so many times I've lost count. It's never been that bad, I've never ended up in the hospital or lost anything too valuable really. But it's the atmosphere and the small incidents that scare me. The guys who yell faggott at me when I pass their balcony, the nazis hanging out in a nearby open garage, the old men with their binoculars who sit in their windows looking for anything suspicious to report, the dead cats that show up on the lawn outside my kitchen, the knock on my window at 4 am this summer followed by a whispered "when he opens you hit him in the head", the neighbour I constantly find passed out in the staircase, the flicker of a million tv screens against the livingroom walls, the smoke from a million chainsmoking moms, the fact that the guy who lived in my apartment before me lay dead in the bathtub for three months before they found him.

I used to live in Hammarkullen (better known as Hammer Hill after the short lived hiphop act Hammer Hill Clique) and there was even more shit happening there. But there was also a feeling of community, of being in this together. When the nazis came in to start trouble there were hundreds of people there to kick them out. More violence of course, but I prefer that to no reaction at all. Then there's the miniature Rio de Janeiro carnival every spring, the smell of barbecue in the summer, the kids selling VHS tapes with stuff they'd taped off TV, the different groups and organisations - from wacky religious cults to the ones that only manifested themselves through writings on the wall. Like the "Hammer Hill Dykes", not sure if they were a group or just one person but I loved seeing that sprayed in giant letters on the wall next to the pizzeria where all the macho guys hung out. It made me feel like I lived in a place where people were thinking and expressing themselves.

In Kortedala everyone's minding their own business. And I'm slowly turning into one of them so as soon as I've finished this record I will get the hell out of here.

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First time I heard the term "Jens Lekman Pop" mentioned in a review or article of another artist, I was flabbergasted. Had I really made such an impact that my music was now an accepted genre, a world of its own with its own capital city, its own currency and a national holiday ? I checked Wikipedia , but besides the biography that contained more facts about me than I knew myself, I couldn't find such a genre. But there it was again ! In a review of some guy who played ukulele. And again ! An article about a ukulele based popband. And again and again... A pattern had emerged after less than 5 articles.

How did I become so associated with this instrument, the Ukulele ? Well, to start with I brought it along for almost every show the last two years, instead of trying to recreate the sound as I had it imagined and realised on the records. For me it was never the history, the George Formby, the Tip Toeing Through The Tulips with Tiny Tim that brought me into it. Sadly, it wasn't even a real love for its sound. It was laziness, people. Good old laziness. It was the idea of being able to travel the country with the ukulele hanging over my shoulder, no big hardcases, no messing with the airline crew, no worrying about the baggage guys dancing polka on it. I loved that image in my head, it went so well with the strawhat I wore back then.

I haven't been very good at defining my music myself. I'll admit that. I'll even admit that when someone tries to define it, I sometimes run in another direction. Though I want my music to be defined. I admire artists who can define their art. I see it as a measure of how bright their visions are and how strong they believe in the importance of their work. But there is also another aspect to it that is often forgotten. That no matter how schizophrenic your songs are musically, there is always something already in there that is you , something that you can't control. It might be in the lyrics, in the tone of your voice, in the way you close your eyes when you sing. That something should be your definition. And your ambition should be to clear all channels to let that reach out.

For me, my Ukulele, is somehow standing in my way. Because it never was a part of my music as I imagined it. It doesn't lead me anywhere anymore. So if you want it (it's free) , here's what you have to do: Go on a vacation, somewhere you've never been before (doesn't have to be far away), and send me a postcard with your adress. You have two weeks.

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There's a storm coming in tonight, the windows are shaking, I can hear a dog barking. I'm counting my friends on the fingers of my left hand, writing down their full names on a paper, writing each of them a personal note to say I am sorry for being an asshole.

Three weeks ago I was supposed to update this page. I came home from a night out. Without a word I had left the people I was with, walking slowly through the Saturday commotion until the city turned into suburb and the distant bassdrum from the clubs drowned in the rain. I was hoping they would call me as they noticed I was missing but my cellphone was as silent as the night. When I came home I wrote this:

"I don't know who my friends are anymore. I don't trust anyone. Everytime I find a reason why someone would be my friend I find a reason why they would benefit from it."

I saved it but didn't post it, I didn't tell anyone. I let the feeling pass. I shouldn't have cause in doing so I let it stay. I let it confuse me and I became rude to the few real friends I have left. There was no one there to prove me wrong so I assumed I was right. It wasn't until a friend spelled it out for me: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? that I got the proof I wanted. I had gone too far.

Six weeks ago it was election in Sweden. The right wing won. I wanted to write about that but I let that feeling pass too. I wanted to write that I've been listening to what they say, I've been following their debates, I've been reading their blogs and all I can feel is a cold heavy rock resting in my belly. Cause the new right is tricky, they discuss environmental issues when their real agenda is conservative family values. Or liberal feminism instead of their plans to join Nato. My American friends tell me I should be lucky we don't have the Bush Administration running our country. But I know where I have Bush, I know what he stands for. These guys... I'm not so sure.

I'm gonna go for a little walk in the storm now, post these notes to my friends. I want to tell you about my new recordings but there is no time tonight. I promise I will write more soon.

* Syl Sylvain & the Teardrops - Formidable ( Amazing song from their hated 2nd album )
( Bet they were high when they recorded this, but sober when they wrote it. ) * NRBQ - Just Close Your Eyes and Be Mine, Ruby
* the Bluebells - Cath ( Been listening to this a lot lately )
( My kind of seductive ) * Nicolas Makelberge - Invasion
* Lupe Fiasco - Food & Liquor ( I love him for his attitude and his songs )

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Sometimes I lie awake and think about Bhundu Boys, the Zimbabwean band who were about to break big in the late 80's but never really made it. I hate talking about bands tragedies instead of their music, but it's just impossible to not mention it in the case of Bhundu Boys. Let me just write it down - three members died of Aids... lead singer hung himself in a mental hospital... remaining members are either broke or in jail.... As survivor and original guitarist Rise Kagona said in an interview some time ago: "For all the cities we visited, and all the friends, and all the music that we made, the Bhundu Boys are mostly remembered for dying of Aids."

So let's leave the tragedy. Let me just tell you that I am glad Rise Kagona is still alive and making music, because of everything I love about the Bhundu Boys it's the guitars that knock me down and once upon a time drew me to African popmusic. How the hell did they get that sound ? I've read that when times were hard they boiled their strings in a special mixture to make them last longer, not sure if that coloured the sound somehow but of course I'd like to pretend it did. It comes out best on the early recordings which were summed up nicely on "the Shed Sessions". The early fans and the puritans will claim these recordings the only ones worth getting and refer to the major label releases as disastrous. But I do have a sore spot in my heart for the Warner album True Jit. The dreamy sound of "My Foolish Heart" definitely matches that of my favourite early tracks like "Manhenga". I also think Foolish Heart was where I once got the "Schhh..." for my song "the Cold Swedish Winter". Not that there's a connection apart from that, I'm just trying to link things together here, catch your interest ...

What breaks my heart is that there is basically nothing about them on the internet. Just a few sites telling the tragic story of how they ended and of course Rise Kagonas site for his new band Culture Clash. And we're talking about the same Bhundu Boys who once opened for Madonna on Wembley Stadium for 80,000 people, whose music John Peel described as "the most perfect music I've ever heard". It makes me wonder what really came out of that Afropop revival that everyone seemed to be into last year ? Of course, some current acts like Amadou & Mariam and Konono no 1 got some well deserved recognition. But I'm still lying awake thinking about the Bhundu Boys.

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Sometimes I get stuck in the recording and writing but instead of cutting my wrists I open the window, bring out my records and put together little mixes for my friends. This one is a mix of some of my favourite songs from this summer and previous ones, some are cut up and put together into new songs, new remixes or whatever. They form a perfect response to the death of this summer.

But I'm a Prisoner of This Moment (short sample) /// TTA - Silly Crimes /// Arthur Russell - Lucky Cloud /// Mahlathini & Mahotella Queens - Kazet /// One , Two , Three... /// Ennio Morricone - Mon Nom Est Personne /// Simmar vi , Svävar vi , Älskar vi /// Most Valuable Players - AC in HCMC /// America - Ventura Highway /// Julien Jabre - Swimming places /// Action Biker - Farrah

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I have a band. At one point this band came to consist of all women. The reason for this was not a visual concept or a feminist statement. It was simply the best band I'd ever played with. Certain references to Robert Palmers "Addicted to Love" in reviews or articles were expected but are of course taken as insults. But instead of dedicating time thinking of this we will be kicking the bullshit and play good music instead.

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In Cincinatti I met a man who wanted to talk to me about cheeseburgers
He said in America you can get three cheeseburgers for a dollar
He said in Venice you can't get a pizza for ten dollars
That's thirty cheeseburgers
He asked me to sign his record
and draw a cheeseburger on it
Then he said "You must agree that all islamists deserve a bullet in their heads "
And I said no
Which made him sad and he walked out
Gently stepping on a pink balloon.

During my stay in New York I stayed in a house in Brooklyn
Everyday taking the Q train to a random station
Using the Brooklyn Clocktower to navigate
Its shape reminding me of a bad gesture
A hand with the middle finger raised until its message could not be denied
As if it was saying
"This is Brooklyn
I'll tell you what time it is
It's time for you to fuck off"

In Des Moines I was given a small guitar in a park
I immediately got a bunch of requests
"Play a song for this night
Its occasional breeze like a single wingbeat of a butterfly
Reminding us of the impossibility of timetravel
and the price on Einsteins head"
"No , play the one about the revelation
Of how even a clenched fist can reveal the most beautiful prophecies
And how the past can be turned into a cinnamon roll"
"No, i'm gonna play the one about the pilgrim
Who entered me as if I was a holy city
And left a drop of blood in my glass of milk"
I said with a nudge to someone who wasn't there

I was watching Os Mutantes in Chicago
Saw them roll out a long red carpet on which we walked back to 1968
Where I don't really want to be
What's the difference between this and an Eagles reunion? I thought
But I killed the cynic in me by thinking of a happy childhood memory
Same tactics I use when I get pee-shy
And the rhythms flowed through me
Like the great Amazon river
Like a giant carneval parade in Rio de Janeiro
Like a gang of homeless boys on a midnight raid
And i peed in my pants

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We don't know many people in Chicago. And our guestlist for the Pitchfork Festival looked sad and empty. So we decided to have a little competition. The winner + a friend will get a VIP guestlist spot for all three days (opening night + both days in Union Park). And this is ALL AGES !!! Here's what you have to do: I have this beat for a song that I want to replace and I want you to listen to the beat and record something in the same tempo (it doesn't have to be exact). You can use anything, be creative, how about sampling your grandpas snoring? Or the sound of your coffee machine going "blup..blup....blop"? Maybe you have one of those Human Beatbox friends? I don't want this competition to be exclusive for the ones lucky enough to have proper recording equipment. So I will tell you about the different ways you can do this:

1. If you know someone who has some kind of recording equipment or if you have it yourself - good for you, now make something really good.

2. In most PC's and Mac's there's a simple recording device that you can use to record with, just connect a cheap mic to the mic input and record. Then if you want to, you can edit these sounds, add effects etc by downloading a free audio editing program. Just search for "free audio editing software" in any search engine. These programs usually allow you to record too but you probably need a fancy soundcard for that.

3. Use your mobile phone, mp3 player, dictaphone...

4. In case you don't have anything to record with you can e-mail me and I will give you a phone number where you can record your contribution on the answering machine (it's not my number though so don't get any ideas).

The sound quality is not very important, I will award the most creative and original contributions. Send files (max 5MB) with www.yousendit.com , www.dropload.com, or upload it to a server and send me the link: jens@srvice.com . DO NOT SEND FILES DIRECTLY TO MY E-MAIL. You have one week. The competition ends on July 14th. There are a couple of consolation prizes as well.

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* Friedrich Jürgenson - From the Studio for Audioscopic Research ( his recordings of voices, available on CD here )
( this EVP researcher claims he got an e-mail from Rudolf Hoess in hell. it's hilarious and you should google it. ) * Adolf Homes
* 1485,0 khz ( maybe the place to be , check your radio)
( last nights soundtrack ) * Idiot O'Clock - Two Roses
* Todd Barry - Falling Off the Bone ( My favourite NY comedian was also played last night to light things up a bit )

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Is it just me or was Göteborg invaded by an unusual amount of neo-nazis and right wing extremists this tuesday? Sure the national holiday always attracts a certain amount of those fucks, but this time it felt like I saw them everywhere. Coming home from some late night swimming I was greeted by a whole gang walking down my street, they spit on my jacket and called me faggot.

This weekend is an important one in Poland as the Pride festivities will take place. Last year president Lech Kaczynski banned the festival, and participants this year risk being attacked. My friends Joel and Maggie from the Hidden Cameras are going to be there to support the event, I wish I could've joined them. Instead I might join the support in Stockholm which will gather outside the Polish embassy at 1pm this saturday.

After Poland , Joel will come to Gothenburg and we will be recording and playing an exclusive show on the 17th as a duo. Our voices go together like milk and honey so you just bring the hot water and we'll cure you from whatever sickness you may have.

The shows last weekend were both some of my favourite shows ever. I'm glad I can take pictures with my eyes, that sunset over Barcelona while we played "Sipping on the sweet nectar" was breathtaking. I'm watching it in my head right now.

Interesting sentence often used in Germany : " I'm sorry but my english is fucking "

* Blumfeld - Tausend Tränen tief ( Dreamy german pop so clean you feel dirty )
( no one outside of sweden will ever understand, and i feel really sad for you people ) * TTA - Silly Crimes
* Julien Jabre - Swimming places ( it's not until summer arrived that i realised how beautiful this track is )
( also known as the Anti-Ipod, a perfect fuck you to the stress of a million choices ) * FM3 - the Buddha Machine

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Hello. If you live in the United States of America you might see a washing machine commercial with a song that apparently sounds a lot like one of my songs. It is not one of my songs but here's the story. I was approached about a month ago by this company , represented by a myriad of producers. They wanted my song. First, let me tell you that I've been approached many times before. This is not a new thing. I've been approached by big german car manufacturers, fast food chains with lightly dressed girls, goth-porn websites, deoderant brands ... you name it. And I've always said no.

Now here's an interesting thing, you're automatically branded as "indie" when you decline to something that probably will make you a lot of money. People think: Ah, here's someone who prefers making music to making money. But in my opinion, being "indie" these days might be as business-minded as you can be. Just like the best brewers, tailors, plumbers, chocolate factories, restaurants etc know that keeping a low profile and relying on good word of mouth might do a much better job in the long run than screaming in peoples faces. And especially now when popmusic is actually starting to become recognised as something more high-brow than it used to be, what worse move than having your song associated with a mobile phone could you make?

Now, I don't really think like this... just wanted to kill an old myth. My reason for declining is strictly connected to my gut feeling. And I get sick when I think of one my songs associated with a product. I do have a sense for business though, it's something that has developed over the years. So while reading their offer and laughing at the stupid filmclip my eyes got caught by the line "if the song has samples in it, maybe he'll be ok with re-recording it?". I quickly replied : " Hey, why don't I record something similar for you?". They were interested, I called up a trumpet and a trombone player. In less than a day I had the track re-worked. New melody, new chords, same feeling. I sent it off, weeks went by. I gave up. But yesterday I saw a comment on my Myspace site "Holy crap, this LG commercial just featured a Sweet Summernight on Hammer Hill". I got worried , I contacted my recordlabels. Today I got the verdict: It's not your song, but it's something very similar.

I havent heard it yet so I can't tell if I've been totally ripped off or not. If I have then I'm the total loser - my song gets associated with a washing machine and I get paid nothing for it. But I don't really care right now. There's too many nice things going on around here. Spring made a short visit to Gothenburg the other week. And down in Berlin it was already summer. My big projects right now involve creating a job for my sister so she doesn't have to work for Burger King (I'm thinking of starting a web shop) and trying to remember where my old favourite swimming location was situated. My mind is drifting all the time, in a nice way. I got a postcard the other day from the girl who made me break my own heart last summer. She wrote : I hope you are happy. And I am.

* Bill Wyman - Bill Wyman ( I've been secretly in love with this silly record for 7 years, now it's confession time )
( the synth-album he wrote to connect with his disabled son, so hated by people in general, in my opinion it's a very touching record ) * Neil Young - Trans
* Don Lennon - Routine ( Once I believed that when love came to me, it would come with rockets bells and poetry. but with you and me , it just started quietly and grew. )
( oh, come on ! give Mike a break, he's famous and rich so what else should he write songs about? ) * the Streets - When you wasn't famous (song)

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* As a subfolder to "shows" : "Weddings + funerals, engagements, bar mitzvahs"
* As a subfolder to "Trashcan" : "Webdesigners who wants to redesign my website"
* As a subfolder to "Projects never completed" : "Berlin beercan symphony"
* As a subfolder to "2006" : "2005"

And then there is a folder called "Love from Strangers" and it has a subfolder called "On hold". And this is where your e-mails go when you write nice things to me and I don't have time to answer them. Currently there are 1019 e-mails in there. I'm terribly sorry that i can't answer you right away, I know some of the oldest e-mails are over a year old in there. But i will try to get back to everyone. Sometimes I think about this folder when I walk the dark streets of Kortedala and then I don't feel so homeless anymore.

Thanks to everyone who came out to the magic show with Maher Shalal Hash Baz this monday. I know what you are thinking and the answer is yes , I did pee in my pants when they played their version of Black Cab. Ha ha . Click here to see it !

* Benni Hemm Hemm - s/t ( finally something good from Iceland, just listen to the funeral brass in " Til Eru Fræ " )
( best swedish record so far this year, best record art ever !) * Most Valuable Players - You in Honey
* the Danielson Family - Did I step on your trumpet ? ( best new single this year together with: )
( great song title) * Maher Shalal Hash Baz - How's your bassoon, Turqoise?

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Dear someone, here's my plans for the future. From now until the US July tour I will be composing and recording. There will be a few random appearances , including this mondays show with Maher Shalal Hash Baz in Gothenburg and the lovely Primavera Festival in June. But i've been trying really hard lately to say no to all other shows. I gotta focus here. I have a handful of songs ready, not that many , but a few that I feel very confident in. I would say they're in the same vein as my old material. I can't hide my love for popmusic and I feel like I have an outlet for my other ideas through my self released records. So in some way it will be a poprecord.

I've been neglecting Sweden for a long time now and I feel bad about that. As soon as I have a new record released or at least finished I will head out on the longest Swedish tour ever. Have stage, will travel. I wanna do a tour in the south just by myself , on a little moped or something, and visit every little smalltown. I could play in libraries or at gasstations, whatever is the centre of your place. But first - the north. Still so unexplored to me. Maybe I'll go in the winter when the light is gone. And then the middle, I might even go to Stockholm !

	March 25th, last day in Tokyo. The very friendly Koki Yahata who helped me set up the Tokyo shows , bought me a record with Maki, a japanese singer from the 70's I think. It's a lovely record. Then I bought my friend Maiko a new bike as to say thanks for letting me crasch at her place. Then I bought everyone dinner at some fancy restaurant . I felt generous because this was the first time ever that I've done a tour without losing money. I actually even made some money ! And it didnt happen in Sweden, Europe or the US, but on the other side of the world. Hm... Later on we went to a part of Tokyo where all the bars are very very tiny. We found this bar named after a Maki record and crawled in, surprisingly the bartender turned out to be Mako, the bassoon player from Maher Shalal Hash Baz. I havent been this starstruck since I was a kid and met Nils Poppe.
March 24th - Sangenjaya Grapefruit Moon Ok, so the Andersens show was clearly in my top 3 of all time. That makes my top 3 list of favourite shows ever span a timeperiod of four days.
	March 22nd - Ogikubo Velvet Sun No, this Tenniscoats show in front of 15 people was the best show I HAVE EVER SEEN. I tried playing my Nagisa Ni Te cover but I screwed it up. But I guess thats part of the beauty of singing in a language unknown to you. Afterwards Saya and Ueno Tenniscoats invited me to a chinese restaurant and Saya said I had to try this fermented duck egg and I said ok. It tasted pretty bad in my opinion and I asked her - so do you like this? and she said - God no ! Ha ha. On my way home the trains were packed. And I caught this guy with my camera, his ass got stuck and it seriously took several minutes before he was able to squeeze it in. In the words of Saya : Blep Blep !
March 21st - Tokyo, Shibuya O-Nest Nikaidoh Kazumis show at O-nest was the best show I've ever seen. The things she can do with her voice , and the soul with which she can leap over language barriers as if they were tiny trees. I have never heard anything like it. A big tear rolled down my face and into my big smiling mouth. Yum.
	March 16 - 19 New Zealand This is as far away from home I could ever go. I loved every second.

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I saw a woman holding a baby today. Then she took a bite out of it. Soon after I realised it was a hamburger.

In Perth I was hit by heatstroke and allergy and in the confusion and sickness I mistook the setlist for the guestlist and vice versa. Fortunately though I had put all my ex girlfriends on the guestlist and the setlist said "whatever". So it worked out ok.

There's a lot of spoiled potsmoking swedish kids from rich families here who have been sent down by their parents to grow up. They're at my shows shouting things in swedish and they come up after and think we have something in common cause we speak the same language. But I feel more related to the possums in the Melbourne parks than them.

Kid on the street: Sir, sir, how much for your guitar? how much for your guitar?
Me: One million dollars.
Kid: checks his pockets, looks sad, walks away.

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If you have time to download something magic, click here (42 MB big treasure shot by Kalle Josephson)

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So a lot of people have been asking for Jens Lekman T-shirts. Why? I've been thinking to myself. I've been very uncomfortable with having my name or face on someones body (unless its a tattoo on a lover). So I let my friend Ryan print some red t-shirts last year for the US tours just to try it. And I wasn't really happy with them... For this year me and Ryan made a new one. It doesn't have my name on it. It just says 2006. It's a T-shirt for the optimists but in the future also for the nostalgic ones. It will be available at shows and maybe soon by mailorder.

Sometimes people tell me "I remember when I was young and stupid and we listened to Black Cab all night, and I remember all the dreams I had back then, they were so bold and pretty. And now I'm old and I have a wife and kids and all my dreams are dead. But I still remember back in the days when we listened to Mapleleaves and dreamed of a future so bright" ... Jesus, I wrote those songs four years ago, do people really grow old that fast these days? And sometimes people write to me and say "My life is so miserable , I don't dare to believe in a future because I think it's just going downhill from here..." . I made this T-shirt for you guys. Just wear it this year, get off the internet, start believing, forget about me for a little while. Then you can grow old, the shirt will grow old too, the '2006' print will be washed out, barely visible. And then in 2009 (every fourth year is a bad one, I've learned that) you can pick it up again, remember me, call me up and I'll sing your troubles away.

Paris, Paris Mais qui, mon chérie, Mais qui, mon chérie, Paris.
When I'm walking down the avenue , I'm as high as Eiffel is to you.

Well this was the reason why we rehearsed that Moondog song... Lots of great moments, however nothing crazy happened like last time. I was just waiting for it all the time... Then all of a sudden I was invited to an afterparty with Yoko Ono, but imagined it would just be full of art students on cocaine. I smelled bad too so I didn't feel like it was a good time for hanigng out. Sorry Yoko.

I was so tired. At some points it felt like I was just doing my job... I'm sorry about that. I still felt like it was a wonderful moment. It was good to see Antje again. And to play with Bill, I just love the confusion on peoples faces when he's performing.

I have forgiven Morrisey. I walked through Manchester today and listened to a whole record by the Smiths for the first time in my life. I kinda liked it. He's a funny guy. Nice melodies. The people who wore his face on their black leatherjackets when I was in highschool and treated me like shit just got it all so wrong. They fell in love with a misery they so deeply thought they had to feel. They fell for the basic idea of the troubled teenager that their parents probably wanted them to be. If you who's reading this is a young person discovering music, don't go for the records your parents want you to hear. Look deep in the back of their record collection for the stuff they've hid away. That's usually the best stuff.

photo by tammy

I want everyone to know that Emma Barker who promoted this last minute show is a person with such a big heart that I should fall in love with her. She is one of the reasons why I decided something so crazy like starting this year with a trip to the UK. Cause the UK really treat artists like shit. You're paid literally nothing, everything's old and shitty, and at the end of the night the bouncers manage to take that wonderful moment away from you by telling you to fuck off. This is however usually not the promoters fault, they are having a really hard time too and that's why I love Emma. In a matter of days she put together a show in a BEAUTIFUL church, she got her friends in and together they managed to create a night I will always remember. I want to recommend all good bands who pass through Brighton to play at her shows.

Being in Glasgow always makes me feel like it's 1998 again. It seems like I always bump into those people I listened to back then (and still do). The popstars here are not very glamorous, which I guess goes hand in hand with the city and the music they make. They still wear the same clothes they wore on their first recordcovers. And they treat you like a friend. I really admire that kind of humbleness. The show was such a great start for this little trip. My band , this time consisting of a brass trio, Tammy on drums and Bill Wells on piano, were amazed by the crowd. Personally I wasn't surprised, we did a good job and we deserved it.

photo by tammy

( i had too much to dream last night ) * Kuryakin - Onie / Snow
* David Shrigley - Worried Noodles (It is not a record, it is a description of a record)
(I like horror movies) * the Descent

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Please don't waste your time hating the Sounds. No one will remember them in ten years.
Instead let us celebrate the wonder of the Embassy

( I inspired him, now he's inspiring me ) * Kalle Jönsson - Vart Stack Du?
* the Concretes - On The Radio (the new record "in colour" has some of the best songs they've written, this is one of my favourites, i'm singing on it)
(from 2005's "Z". last years sexiest voice.) * My Morning Jacket - Wordless Chorus
* the Knife - Silent Shout (oh god, it's growing on me!)

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Me and Erlend are inviting you to a very spontaneous show at Pustervik in Göteborg tonight. We just didn't have much to do and decided it'd be fun to play some songs. There will be tunes by Kings of Convenience, Erlends solo records, his new "the Whitest Boy Alive" project, a few of my songs and some covers. A quiet and warm acoustic night. Just 40 kronor.

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Ha ha ha, I love the confusion surrounding the Kullaberg dvd-ep. Journalists have been calling me all day - so it's not a musicvideo? - no. - it's
not a movie? - no. - it's an EP on DVD? - yes. - so it's an EP with musicvideos? - no... It's not like I made it to confuse people, but confusion is nice sometimes. Actually, to add to the confusion... I still don't know how or if this will be released on DVD at all. Which makes it a DVD-EP that you can only experience once during the Gothenburg Filmfestival. Ha ha... But the concept is not entirely new, actually after doing some research I am reminded that Pink Floyd has a dvd with them playing in Pompeii , Cat Power plays out in the wild in Mark Borthwicks "Speaking for trees" and then there's of course that movie about the Norwegian choir singing in snowstorms, I can't remember the title.

My main idea with this was just to get out of the studio for a little while, I was being frustrated with small details and I just wanted to record a handful of songs right away. Or to be honest, I just wanted to hang out in the country, drink appel cider and read old Donald Ducks. But the two ideas worked well together.

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