Monday, 16 February 2004

Madrugada - True Grit


--------------------

First, a little context. Until three years ago, Norwegian music had been nigh-on ignored in the UK. A-Ha hadn't been news since the Eighties, and the only time the country showed up in the UK press was when a feud between black metal bands got out of hand and somebody died. Then came Kings Of Convenience, swiftly followed by Royksopp, St Thomas and Turbonegro.

Now wipe the slate clean. It's time to introduce a band who, if
Bullit has anything to do with it, will eclipse all of the above and stand tall by the end of 2004, not only as Norway's biggest musical export in a decade, but as the UK's new favourite band. Enter Madrugada, four men who are already platinum-selling superstars in Norway but are only now trying to crack the perennially tough nut that is the UK market.

The name, since you ask, means "the hour before sunrise" in Spanish, or "dawn" if that sounds needlessly pretentious. The album which has so impressed Bullit is Grit, a Madrugada primer of sorts containing seven highlights from their identically-titled third domestic album (with
PJ Harvey producer Head at the controls) and four tracks from earlier in the band's 5-year recorded career. Despite this perhaps slightly unorthodox situation, the UK Grit, released through Music For Nations, grabs the jugular like a jaguar.

Sitting in an anonymous hotel lobby, nursing a hangover after the previous night's impressive London showcase gig, Madrugada singer
Sivert Hoyem is surprisingly level-headed for a man instantly recognisable in his adopted home of Oslo (they're originally from Stokmarknes, a tiny community far north of the Arctic Circle). Hoyem, he of the piercing eyes, razor cheeks and chocolatey baritone, says the band were "really surprised" when their 1999 debut album Industrial Silence elevated Madrugada quickly to the status of rock royalty.

"There was a lot of really crappy music in Norway at that time, and then suddenly people went out and bought our album which, at least to my ears, wasn't bad," he explains modestly. "It really sold loads and loads..." The move to Oslo was inevitable, and Madrugada now rehearse in a converted brewery, sharing space with the aforementioned Turbonegro and around 70 other bands: "I can actually say that I like some Norwegian bands as much as I like other stuff, which I couldn't say three years ago...there was nothing happening!"

Madrugada's outsider status in the Norwegian capital - Hoyem claims northern Norwegians are derided as "peasants" by the more sophisticated south - has doubtless fuelled the intensity of their music. But raised in the wilderness on an intoxicating diet of
The Cramps, The Jesus & Mary Chain, The Cure and The Velvets, it was almost inevitable that Madrugada's songs would turn out as emotionally evocative and melodically direct as they have.

From the outset, Hoyem has always sung in English for the simple reason that "we have always wanted to travel with our music - we don't want to stay in Norway forever!" Floppy-haired bassist
Frode Jacobsen joins our table, and he jumps to his bandmate's defence when Bullit suggests they're betraying their roots. "Most Norwegian bands sing in English - it's very natural." Certainly, the linguistic density of Hoyem's lyrics suggests a deeper understanding of the nuances of English than most Brit wordsmiths can manage.

Madrugada's stagecraft is impeccably cool: mercurial guitarist
Robert Buras ("the only guy who'd be found sleeping with his guitar," says Hoyem fondly) and Hoyem are hugely charismatic performers, the latter's captivating stare being particularly unavoidable. Although drummer Simen Vangen is otherwise engaged, a mildly dishevelled Buras finally arrives - fresh from buying, yes, a guitar. "We always try to play the things we really enjoy, to make the best concert," he chips in emphatically. Hardly a groundbreaking concept, admittedly, but it's obvious Buras lives and breathes music: he spends his non-Madrugada time in, er, another band...

Madrugada, then. A new dawn, a new day, a new life? Damn straight.

Charlie Ivens

Originally published in Bullit Magazine February 2004 issue.