Pernilla Andersson, whose new album was released earlier this year, is not only a singersongwriter but an acclaimed record producer as well. She was also one of the first to swap the knobs and faders on a mixer console for a studio software program. We met her to talk about the effect that digital technology has had on her profession – but also about the new album she wrote to comfort herself when her father became ill.
ON THE RIGHT PATH 22
23
W
hen I explain that I’m writing an article on the computerisation of the music industry Pernilla Andersson laughs. “But I’m the most analogue musician you’ll find in Sweden!” That is a truth with modifications. Pernilla Andersson also freely admits that she loves to work with digital technology and was one of the first producers to embrace it. We will get back to that. First she wants to buy some cakes. “It’s the way I’ve been brought up. As a child I learned you should always have cakes when you invite someone round for coffee.” We stand by the cash desk in a 1950s inspired café in Stockholm. Retro armchairs are grouped around teak tables on the black and white chequered floor. Above the juke box are the sleeves of recordings made by Pernilla’s parents. Her mother, Siw Gunsnér, sang jazz and pop and toured with the Swedish jazz clarinettist Putte Wickman. Her father, Kent, who spelt his surname Anderzohn, was one of the Swede Singers, who made their breakthrough on the popular Hylands hörna TV show and were a support band for the Beach Boys. It was Kent who first kindled his daughter’s interest in technology. “He was keen to make sure that I felt comfortable with technical things. He used to let me lend a hand when he was mending instruments or headphones that had broken. He always used to say, ‘If you do screw up, all you have to do is pull out the plug’.” When Pernilla was just five years old her father built a music studio in their house on the outskirts of Hässleholm in the south of Sweden. Shortly afterwards he invested in one of the first personal computers from Apple and started to record his own music.
24
“He said that this is the future, a few years from now all musicians will be working from home like this. And he’s been proved right. He showed me what to do and, although I would have much preferred to stand on stage and sing jazz and pop rather than sit in front of a computer, I realised it would probably be a good idea to learn a bit about it.” The café has sold out of buns, so Pernilla buys a bag of biscuits instead. With the shopping all done we take a walk to her street, to continue the interview in the bright and airy apartment that she shares with her son, Sixten. There is a walnut wood piano in the bedroom and two guitars in the living room. On the table is the MacBook she uses to mix and produce her songs. “Today it’s a normal way of working, but people used to laugh when they first saw me using my laptop as a mixing desk,” she says as she pours the coffee. “Still, the songs I produced resulted in two Grammis nominations. One for Artist of the Year and one for Composer of the Year.”
I
t was when she was just 23, while she was recording her first album that Pernilla realised she wanted to become a producer. She had asked all her favourite musicians if they could come to the studio and record with her. “Once everyone was there I got so nervous I lost my voice. There I was, in a studio that cost 1200 euros a day, and I couldn’t deliver the goods. That’s when I understood how much better it would be to have my own studio, where I could record when it suited me and my voice. When I started to produce my own music I felt this fantastic sensation of freedom. It was such a relief not to have to leave the technical de-
cisions to someone else, not to be reliant on other people.” In 2002 Pernilla became the first female record producer for a major Swedish label when she was given the prestigious task of producing an album for the jazz musician Svante Thuresson. They were forced to book several different studios, one for recording the wind instruments, another for the strings and a third for the accompaniment track. The vocals were added last of all, in Pernilla’s summer home in Sörmland with the aid of her computer and a bewildering array of external hard discs. “It might look cooler with proper faders and regulators, but for me it was just as easy to work on my computer. The only problem was that the computer kept freezing. There were a lot of teething problems with early studio software. Thankfully, Dad was able to support me. I could always phone him if I needed help.” It sounds like you were a pioneer in terms of embracing digital technology as a music producer. Yet you say you are the Swedish music industry’s most analogue artist. How do you explain that? “I like analogue and acoustic music – the sound of the instruments, the tone quality. I’m a jazz singer at heart and I adore the sound of a double bass or a live drum set. However, I use computers to help me record these sounds and then put them together. I love analogue sounds and instruments, but I’m not opposed to using digital technology to capture the music they make. Quite the opposite. I’m a big fan of all kinds of digital technology.” "I HARDLY EVER AGREE TO DO INTERVIEWS. INSTEAD I WRITE WHAT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT IN MY SOCIAL MEDIA CHANNELS AND DIRECT ANY MEDIA ENQUIRIES TO THESE." Early in her career Pernilla Andersson set up her own label, Sheriff Records, which released music from artists such as Titiyo, Svante Thuresson and Staffan Hellstrand. Today, however, she no longer releases physical CDs. “I think physical CDs are on the way out. If you’re not touring and selling your own records, there are no longer any sales channels. There are no record shops left, and it costs more than it’s worth to manufacture CDs just because it’s the thing to do,” she reasons. Over the past ten years the music industry has witnessed big changes, mostly as a result of advances in digital technology. When internet sites like Spotify were set up, people said that music streaming would mark the beginning of the end for the industry. But they were wrong. Instead, thanks to money-spinning agreements with commercial music sites, record companies have really been raking in money in recent years. “The big companies are doing well right now. But today Spotify seems to be very much a forum for young artists and a young audience that is very comfortable with streaming. Things are still tough for songwriters and for those artists whose work is streamed less often – the segment the industry calls ‘adult contemporary’. The royalty levels should – and, I think, will – be renegotiated and restructured for different forms of listening. Older users, who are less likely to listen to Avicii a hundred times in quick succession than they are to stream an entire album now and then, must find ways of using these new approaches to enjoying music and feel comfortable in doing so,” Pernilla says. One thing she personally feels is lacking in today’s new music services is information about who the musicians are, who has composed the music, written the lyrics and produced the end result.
She takes a bite from one of the biscuits and continues: “We’re still in a transitional phase and people are always apprehensive about change. But things will sort themselves out. They always do. We can’t turn back the clock, we must move forward. I think we need to embrace technology. After all, the pros do outweigh the cons.”
O
ne of the biggest advantages is that technology gives you the freedom to do everything yourself, and that is just what Pernilla likes most. “Let’s say I’m working on the final mix and I suddenly realise that I need some strings. One click opens up my music library and there I can produce a really good string sound. It couldn’t be simpler. Sometimes technology really does make life easier. And, if there is ever anything that, from a purely technical point of view, I don’t know how to do, I can always check out YouTube for guidance.” Social media is another of the digital age’s advantages. It creates new opportunities for musicians to reach out and interact with fans on their own terms. Pernilla Andersson is active on both Instagram and Facebook. “I hardly ever agree to do interviews. Instead I write what I want to talk about in my social media channels and direct any media enquiries to these. Then people have to quote me word for word. It’s an excellent way of keeping control over what you want to say and the picture people have of you. Otherwise you don’t stand a chance against the mass media.”
25
26
PERNILLA ANDERSSON BORN: 1974 HOME: Södermalm, Stockholm JOB: Artist and music producer RIGHT NOW: A new album, Tiggrinnan TOUR DATES: Check out the website pernillaandersson.se OTHER MERITS: Played pop star Ann-Louise Hansson in the
feature film Cornelis FAVOURITE APP: Cleartune (“a guitar tuner than has saved my life on many occasions”), YR weather app and Netflix TECH GADGET I CAN’T/WOULD HATE TO LIVE WITHOUT:
My iPhone/laptop TECHNICAL INNOVATION THAT I WISHED EXISTED: “A gadget
that lets me call for all the many things I leave lying about – and that only works when I need to use it. A chip, perhaps, like those I already have in my wallet or key ring, but one that is solely voiceactivated. I’m sure an innovation like that is well within the realm of possibility.”
S
he believes, too, that you need to keep up with developments. “Technology is advancing so fast these days. My dad had a keen interest in all things technical and always used to make sure that I was kept updated. Now that he’s ill, it’s made me realise how easy it is to lose touch with the latest ideas.” The mere mention of her father’s advanced Alzheimer’s is enough to make Pernilla Andersson suddenly pensive. The sorrow of slowly losing her father is one of the themes in her latest studio album, Tiggrinnan. “It’s a very personal album – about estrangement, longing and the helplessness you feel when someone close to you gradually slips further and further away into ill health. I wrote the album for myself, to comfort me,” she says. “I used to be like a tigress, living my life thinking nothing could hurt me. Then my dad became ill around the same time as I had a child, and from then on nothing was like I had imagined it would be. Suddenly the tigress sat there like a beggar, pleading with the doctors to make my father well again. Accepting that it wasn’t going to happen came as a terrible blow.” That’s what the title track of Tiggrinnan (a made-up expression that
conflates the Swedish words for “tigress” and “beggar”) is about. As Pernilla sings, “In every tiger hides a beggar – if you squeeze him really hard”. But the album also takes up the idea that weakness can give birth to strength. “It’s a strength that grows out of the insight that, if fear is not to emerge victorious, grief must be confronted head on. I think all of us change from tigers into beggars at some stage in our lives,” she says. Tiggrinnan is Pernilla Andersson’s ninth studio album, and this one too has been produced by her. Her reputation as an outstanding producer was confirmed in 2013 when she became the first woman to receive the Sir George Martin Music Award for her work as a composer and producer. Sir George Martin, frequently referred to as “the fifth Beatle”, handed over the prize personally and wrote in a letter, “I cannot think of anyone more deserving than you”. Pernilla says that meant a very great deal to her. “He was a great role model for me in my musical career. I regard his words as official confirmation that I have chosen the right path in life.”
27