Here, Berge and Brundtland talk
to Keyboard while visiting Amsterdam
(with Berge nearly being run down by a
tram while on the phone) about layering
sounds, holding onto the magic of an original
idea, and working with some of Scandinavia’s
best singers.
On Junior, you worked with vocalists
with very distinctive voices. How do
you decide which vocalist is right for a
particular song?
Svein Berge: Well, for instance, Lykke Li
— she has a very sensual, percussive voice,
which we thought would be in tune with
what we wanted to present in the track
“Miss It So Much,” which was to be a
romantic view — without sounding too nostalgic
— on missing analog in a digital
world. So selecting voices is the same
process as selecting which sound should
play the lead, which sounds should play the
chords, the bass kick, and so on.
You guys wrote the basic idea for a
track on The Understanding at a
party to prove to some girls that
you write your own music. Do you
generally work out ideas together or
separately?
Torbjørn Brundtland: We split it mainly
into two ways. One is the more easy and
fun way to do it: We meet up, hang out,
listen to music, find some nice sounds,
start playing with them, follow intuition,
and record the bits that sound good and
scrap what doesn’t. The other way is
where you have an image in your head,
and you try to make it become reality.
That’s always much harder.
Hip-hop producer Just Blaze once said
when songwriters are so emotionally
attached to a demo version of a song
that they’re never happy with the final
version, he calls it “demo-itis.” Have
you experienced that?
TB: I’m flabbergasted that someone actually
made a word out of that. It’s ingenious
and should go straight into the dictionary,
because I think everyone who has been
involved in music at some stage knows
about that. I think that’s a very personal
thing that can lead to a lot of potential arguments
between musicians because if you
record something, there will always be one
who has a preference for a better recording,
and another who has a preference for a
better expression. I remember reading interviews
with Portishead in their heyday, and
they talked about the importance of keeping
the original expression without re-recording,
even though the original recording didn’t
even have the right lyrics. So I think that if
you’re able to find the right balance, then
you are at the point where you want to be,
because an early version is going to be
flawed, and if you clean it up too much, the
magic has disappeared.
How do you keep the magic?
TB: Let’s say there are some crackles in a
recording that somehow sound unwanted,
but at the same time, you like it. You can go
into micro detail and say, “I like these
crackles here because they serve a purpose,
but the crackles where the chorus is
coming in just sound plain unprofessional,
so let’s remove those and keep the ones
that I react emotionally to.”
How much do you still use the Korg
MS-20 and Roland Juno-106 synths?
SB: We still have them and use them for all
they’re worth. But at the same time, we try to
conceal to some extent when we use them
because we don’t want the synths to be too
easily recognizable. The Juno’s sound in
particular is very distinctive. To conceal
them, you can layer them with other synths.
If, for instance, you want a pad, like a string
sound from the Juno, you can just add a different
pad or string sound from another keyboard
and let them play the same thing. And
you can patch sounds through the MS-20
and use the filters to mess around with it. Or
you can put some things through guitar pedals,
and there are so many plug-ins that can
alter sounds in many ways.
In order to make what some people
refer to as warmth, we tend to send sounds
through old tube compressors. We have a
few Chandler Limited TG1 Abbey Road
compressors because we’re so fond of
them, and we have a very cheap, old,
eight-channel Boss mixer. When we send
stuff through that, it sounds like it’s been
through a tape recorder 20 times.
What was the process for creating
“The Girl and the Robot” with Swedish
singer Robyn?
SB: We spoke a little about Lykke Li with
her sensual, percussive voice, whereas
Robyn has the more traditional pop voice.
It’s very clear and versatile. So we asked
her whether she’d be willing to play with
two shabby idiots in a cupboard in Bergen,
Norway. She’s easy to trick, so she said
yes. We had already made a few ideas for
the song, and I think we had at least four
different ways we could take it. At one
point we had something that was more
orchestral with lots of strings. It was a bit
more pompous, and slower. We decided to
go for the more uptempo, energetic take on
it. We wrote the lyrics together and also
shaped the main body of the melody of
what she sings.
As for the production, there’s a bit of
the orchestral synth, which is like the crown
jewel for any train-spotter in terms of keyboard
fetish: the Vako Orchestron. It’s
favored by the likes of Florian Schneider of
Kraftwerk, especially on their album, Radio-
Activity. So we used the Orchestron mixed
with the choir from the Roland VP-330
Vocoder, mixed with our singing. We sing
on top of these two synth sounds, the
exact same chords, but it just makes a
whole thick, rich thing. It’s very low in the
mix, but it adds dimension to the whole
sound. Plus there’s a very nice kick, which
is sidechained by compressors into the
chords, so that it sort of eats into the
music, which is a common way of making
things pump. [See our Dec. ’08 issue or
keyboardmag.com for a tutorial on making
your tracks pump using sidechains. –Ed.]
There are a lot of intertwining
keyboards, as on “Vision One.” When
do you know you’ve got enough going
on or when you should cut back?
SB: That’s the brain damage we have — to
us, it’s never enough! We like it to be a bit
“wrong.” Dub music, for example, is great
when it’s lo-fi and a bit wrong. You can
hear the hissing and the distortion. And you
can hear that some instruments might be
out of tune, and they might miss the beat.
When it all becomes a bit stupid and off,
that’s something that we love. In terms of
building a crescendo, as we do towards
the end of “Vision One,” we just keep on
going. But you don’t want it to be a
cacophony of melodies trying to kill each
other. As soon as you start with your fifth
melody, and you go, “Okay, now this is
turning into a guitar solo,” you have to back
off and rethink.
RÖYKSOPP SAMPLING SECRETS
Samplers: Akai S series, including the
S3200XL. “In addition, we mess
around with the audio in an editing program
[mostly Steinberg WaveLab]”
Berge says. “We sample vinyl, CD,
field recordings, or we just record
things onto tapes, send them through
our gear, and re-record it again.”
The not-so-secret sample: “Happy
Up Here” has a sample from
Parliament’s track, “Do That Stuff.”
Vinyl noise: “We’re suckers for the
vinyl sound,” Berge says. “There’s no
hiding that, and we don’t try to. If anything,
we deliberately try to make it
sound more vinyl-y by adding a crackle
sound and ground sound, which you
can hear toward at the end of ‘Silver
Cruiser.’ There’s lots of humming and
hissing, and that’s all put in there deliberately
to create the vinyl feel.”