9 November 2011
As you may or may not have noticed we don't spend the lions share of our time communicating on our website. The reason is the we (belive it or not) are hard at work with the new record. Right now me, Chris and Matt are in Fagersta holed up recording demos whilst Pelle and Vig are in their own private dungeons doing basically the same. The diamond in the rough that we have been working on since the dawn of very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very young men is really shaping up. Hopefully record the last tracks in a few weeks.
Peace on/Peace off
16 August 2011
So I am back at Hive Manor safe but not quite sound. Better by the hour though. Stiff as a board and a headache and a little trouble focusing but that's it. Thanks for all your support. Feels good.
There have been some questions and I would like to answer the most common ones. Here goes:
-Yes I will be ok
-Yes it could have been a lot worse but let's not think about that
- No I was completely sober. Almost always am during the shows.
I will be lying here in robe and slippers until I feel better and that's that!
Onwards and upwards!
Howlin Pelle Almqvist
15 August 2011
So it finally happened. Icarus flew too close to the sun and fell and it was ugly. Icarus in this story would be me and the sun more like a lighting rig and the flying was more like climbing. We were doing our show in Zofingen, Switzerland and during 'Walk Idiot Walk' the music was so powerful that I was convinced I could jump *AROUND* a corner and land on stage. Seems silly now but a real possibility then. The only reason I think I will get away with these things is that so far I always have. I somehow got caught by my heel in some stage rigging and fell 3 meters (roughly 9.8 feet for you non-metrics) and landed on my head and leg. I then finish the show limping like a three legged dog and speaking in tongues. Turns out I have a concussion and god knows what else. The highly skilled doctors are still trying to find out. Xrays, brain scans and running other tests.
So, I now find myself in a Swiss hospital having a crack at schweizerdeutch to communicate with my nurse whose actual first name seriously is Troll. Her job is to wake me up every hour for 24 hours by shining a flashlight in my eyes and asking me what my birthday and my name is. I am not allowed to eat or drink anything during this time. I have been thinking of escaping but I doubt I would reach and cross the French border on foot with the amount of painkillers they got me on with no passport wearing a hospital dress. To then make it to the festival and up onto the stage and pull off a fantastic show is probably beyond even me. I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that, shit, I may even be mortal. I am truly sorry for any trouble this causes anyone.
No choreographers, no safety nets, all my own stunts,
Howlin Pelle Almqvist