225
“When was the…” Sweetie began to blush again and giggle shaking her head which also made me chuckle. “I’m sorry, guys,” she whined at the crew of cameramen, producers and others present in the studio. It was nearly tenth time we were failing to ask and answer that very first question and once start the interview. Needless to say people were getting slightly pissed off with us. “I can’t do this, it’s just too weird, isn’t it?” she expected some support from me and it wasn’t missing out.
“It is,” I nodded glancing over at Takki, the person in charge. “Seriouslly, we never talked like this about things we do,” I honestly tried to apologize and explain while Sweetie and I are screwing up this artist on artist interview.
“I’m really sorry but we didn’t think we’d be interviewing each other,” Sweetie did her puppy-dog eyes that were bound to melt Takki. “It’d be much easier if someone else would sit and ask these questions,” Sweetie tried with honesty.
“Ok, so you still want to do this?” Takki asked and we both nodded instantly at red haired woman. “Will you be able to answer the questions if I ask them?”
“Yeah,” Sweetie confirmed and so did I.
“But can you answer them if you’re sitting one next to another during the entire interview? I mean that’s the basic concept of this show, you know. Two artist facing each other talking about their work so the viewers can see the reaction,” Takki explained. Poor girl probably thought we’re just screwing with her and we won’t do it.
“That’s not the problem. I can do that.” Sweetie instantly turned her entire body towards me and sat in the chair properly.
“Yeah, it’s just weird to ask things we had never thought of asking one another, “ I added. “Or at least we would never get to them in this way,” Sweetie agreed with me on this.
“Ok, then I’ll ask but you have to answer them honestly, ok?” Takki kind of threatened. It’s really strange for me that still in this business there are people who believe we’re completely honest with them. Many of us lie on purpose, many just to have fun, but rarely we’re honest because that makes us boring. Luckily, that’s exactly what Sweetie and I aim for. We want people to find us boring for one simple reason - less those crazy obsessed people camping in front of our home every now and then.
Actually, when I think of it all, I don’t think we made much progress when it comes to being absent from papers and media. We’re not in tabloids any more as far as I know. But for some reason it seems like all of a sudden there came a shift where people are now interested in us on some kind of deeper level. I don’t get so much of those zillion times recycled questions about the band. Lately, it all comes mostly to things like these. Like all of a sudden I became some profound thinker, ha, I’m oh, so important prick these days.
“You seriously are strange people,” Takki commented as she called for a makeup artist to come and prepare her for the cameras. “This is surely going to be the hardest show ever. And I thought it’ll be the easiest.”
I kind of sympathized with Takki, for in the world of TV presenters, journalists and such Sweetie and I had a reputation of easy to talk with kind of people, as well as those that always give interesting interviews. And we were like that as long as it’s not us doing both Qs and As. Seriously, how could I look Sweetie in the eyes and ask her what she thinks of my music in front of the cameras? I never asked her that before in private for very simple reason. The answer no matter what it might be could affect that very music in ways that ordinary people can’t understand. Subconsciously, it would mean I would tend to make it the way she likes it not the way I feel it should be and that would fuck it all up. Furthermore, her criticism might seriously affect my confidence. In private, such question asked by me would have a completely new dimension than when some strange person asks her and I just sit there and listen. This way I can detach from it all, in private I never could do it.
Sure, after all these years, we show and share our music and writings with each other before any of it get to anyone else in the world. Of course, we give and receive feedback but that feedback never contains questions or interpretations of the work itself. It’s more like “it’s great. It’s good. I didn’t like this part.” And we’re not scarce because we don’t have an opinion. It’s more about respect of one to another. You don’t criticize the work that is essentially about you in ways you would criticize something else. Each has the right to speak the way they want, say what they want, and to see you any way they want. Just imagine her asking me what do I mean with this or that verse that maybe she perceives in quite different way then I do. How would I feel? Disappointed that she got the wrong message for sure; like I failed to say what I actually wanted; angry enough to delete the song… options are way too vast. The point is, you get inspired by someone you love, you make a song or a novel dedicated to that person hoping that he/she will take it at least the similar way you do, that your expression of love will be taken for what it is meant to be. If that doesn’t happen… well, artist’s are vain creatures and essentially very fragile so figure it out.
Yes, Sweetie and I never talked about it this way because we both understand what it might do to us.
“Ok are we all ready?” Takki asked as she took her seat at the table. “Can you at least look one another in the eyes while you talk? At least for the most of the time? Pretend like I’m not here.”
“Do you know what you’re suggesting with that?” Sweetie chuckled. “You’ll have to rate it as NC-18+.”
“At least,” I pointed out. “Seriously, we’ll try be nice,” I replied honestly and Sweetie nodded readjusting herself in the chair opposite from me, leaning her elbows on the glass table surface.
“Ok, let’s begin,” Takki nodded pushing her glasses with her index finger and glancing at the set of the papers in her right hand. “How did you discover HIM the band?”
“Through a very good friend of mine,” Sweetie’s eyes were set on mine and I had to smirk a little because she was a little uncomfortable and I found that quite arousing. “He was running this magazine that I was occasionally doing interviews and reviews for. He sent me their first CD and said ‘here listen to this and give me five sentences.’”
“I guess you had hard time meeting the quota,” I had to mock myself. “Pure crap do not buy, with full stops after each word that makes five sentences easily.”
“You wouldn’t really get paid for that,” Sweetie pointed out as chuckled.
“But it’s five sentences like he asked, isn’t it?”
“No, full stops don’t make something a sentence, darling. It’s such good example why kids should stay in school,” she joked. “Actually, I was so impressed that I did a proper review that was half page long and sent it to him with apology for not being able to shorten it.”
“Wow, I guess that’s the longest review we ever got,” again I couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” she agreed giggling. “It’s embarrassingly unprofessional review, I believe.”
“Do you still have that one?” I was slightly intrigued at the thought of young teenage Sweetie giving my band’s debut a critical review.
“I don’t think I have it,” she wasn’t certain and I was slightly disappointed. “But I can get it easily, Ben has all the copies. I really wonder how embarrassing that one must have been.”
“I doubt it but… still I want to check it out,” I grinned.
“It’s not in English, you know. You’ll need someone to translate it,” she teased me I’m still not that good in her mother tongue.
“I’m sure the translator won’t cost me too much,” I teased back tickling the tip of her nose with my index finger and she snickered.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” her head tilted as she slightly pulled herself back from me reminding me we’re not alone.
“Was is a positive review?” I asked clearing my throat.
“I said I was impressed, didn’t I?”
“Ok, tell me,” I licked my lips nervously.
“Well, like I said I was a teenager myself back in days so that rawness was soothing for me, very appropriate. But personally, what really got me was your singing that technically was far from flawless but you obviously tried really hard to prove yourself but it was the fact that even before I checked who wrote the lyrics I felt it’s you behind them while listening.”
“Yeah, you can feel that though I don’t know how,” I confirmed something that always buffled me in her.
“I can’t explain it quite myself either but… there’s just some subtle difference in the way you sang covers and your own songs,” she shrugged. “The covers, you somehow managed to make them your own and you sang them good but there’s just some more harder, more tender emotion in your voice in the rest of the songs from that album. I don’t know,” she shrugged looking at me in wonder. “But mostly I was hooked with the lyrics, the way you play with language and I’m not talking about love/death concept. “I’ll violate you in the most sensual way” that’s such a beautiful line, to put such two words that usually you won’t find in the same sentence let alone make it sound so erotic was something that really got me into in. It’s a great album, especially in the sense that if you take it as a whole it has it’s own story. All of your albums do and I love that. It’s like a proper essay, it has a good opening and perfect end and this great middle part that connects them.”
Sure, I thought all that myself but hearing it from her made me blush and she smiled biting her lower lip seductively.
“But still I prefer you guys live,” she continued and I took that as a compliment. “If I’d be brutally honest, I have never listened to any of the sctual studio recordings much. The moment I heard live stuff I was hooked on it more than on albums. Studio recording for me were just something I can listen to until some bootlegs show up or I get to see you live. First time I saw you live, you weren’t really in the mood but I loved it.”
“Was I drunk?”
“No, you were more like bored, like you’d prefer being somewhere else but on the stage. You mostly conversed something with Mige totally ignoring the audience. But I loved it.”
“No way, you’re just being nice right now.”
“No, seriously I loved that I don’t give a flying fuck attitude. You were the first band I saw who isn’t trying so hard to impress people with anything but playing. I’m sorry I’m just the type of person that doesn’t really like being spit on by Lars Urlich; I get dizzy if people run around the stage too much or if there’s some kind of that show going on in front of my eyes live. Especially if I’m close to the stage.”
“Well, there are people who like being spit on.”
“Well, I don’t. I can proudly say I have successfully escivated Lars’s spit.”
“Oh that happened to you?” I was truly amused.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I was in the second row and all I remember from concert is trying to avoid being spit at from the stage. But I learned my lesson. If I want to watch Metallica I stay out of slime range. But you’re right about people who don’t mind that. I swear there was bunch of them around me trying to catch it for some reason. They looked at me like I’m some kind of freak.”
“It’s just, well, you know how it is, we shared the stage together,” I began and she nodded.
“Yeah, I remember being on stage with the band for the first time. I was so fucking nervous, I was thinking how I must look stupid just standing there in one spot while people are watching me but nothing else felt natural. I remember you talked to me in between verses to just focus on the band and the music and forget about the people.”
“Yeah, I told you to pretend we’re back at home having fun.”
“Yeah, that’s that. It helped a lot, when I turned my back to crowd and just watched you guys till I felt relaxed enough and the number of people watching me didn’t matter any more.”
“People tend not to understand that well for us as a band of course the audience matters, of course they’re important, but the only way we can give good show is if we have fun while we’re on the stage and we have fun if we crack jokes in between riffs or songs, if we talk and such. We just do what feels right at certain given moment. On the other hand there are bands and musicians that rehearse the dance, moves or other things they have that are separate from music. They’re more like act while on the other hand you have these introverted, shy, wankers like us who just get on stage and go with the flow.”
“Well, that’s what I like. I’m not necessarily impressed with all those other things, of course I don’t say I hate that, but it somehow takes my attention away from the music that is my main goal when I go to a concert. With the way you are I can focus on that.”
“Yeah, but the side effect of just getting on the stage and playing without any pyros or any show is that people like you can more easily notice the bad playing or bad singing.”
“True, but even that doesn’t mean the concert is bad,” she pointed out. “I guess I just come from this little country where still you don’t have anything but simple playing at concerts from local bands. I grew up with that tradition.”
“That’s probably why you don’t expect anything else but the band to perform their songs and you to enjoy seeing them live.”
“Well, that’s why I think the concerts exist in the first place. If I want to watch acts like you beautifully called them I do that at home on DVD. It’s less scary that way.”
“Well I like watching KISS on DVD but I prefer them live. No matter what good equipment you have at home it’s just not that.”
“True, but then I’m somewhere in the back and definitively not interested in being in first rows.”
“You’re lurker from the shadows,” I teased.
“Yeah, because if you watch act from some position where you don’t have to constantly spun your head around but have a good perfect view on the entire stage from one spot, then I’m good otherwise I’m too confused. It’s just too much action going on the stage is a bit overwhelming for me.”
“I understand that,” I nodded. “It’s good we agree on that so when we go to concerts together we don’t have to fight like ‘no, damn it I don’t want to go to mosh pit’.”
“Oh, I loved nice moshs…”
“Can mosh be nice?” I giggled.
“Yeah, it can,” she confirmed. “If you have bunch of people who aren’t there to actually hurt someone, if they’re not looking for a fight.”
“So you’re a mosher?”
“Not any more, but I used to be while people were nicer. I haven’t done that in… umm… well pretty long time.”
“I never did that. It was never my cup of tea.”
“So you’re a mosh virgin,” she teased. “Well, you can’t die till you lose your mosh virginity. I must organize a little nice mosh pit for you.”
“Please don’t…”
“But now I have to, I just have to. What kind of rocker are you and have never beened moshed? It’s abomination. A blasphemy,” she seriously said. “Ok, your turn,” she quickly switched the subject, tilting her head a little. “When have you found me the first time?”
“Umm...” I chuckled at the little intentional pun in her question. “I saw your book in the bookshop. It had simple black cover with title and your pseudoname on it engraved in silver ancient lettering. I loved the look of it that I simply bought it without the slightest idea what’s it about.”
“I guess you haven’t heard about the old saying don’t judge the book by the cover,” now, it was her time to mock herself.
“I did but you know, I just couldn’t help it. It looked so cool. Especailly in 20th century. It was a book printed in modern times but looked like medeval. And I wasn’t disappointed quite contrary,” I pointed out and it was her time to blush. “But you fooled me, I thought a guy wrote it, because the way you talked about the feeling and thoughts were so manly. Seriouslly, women tend to dellute the thoughts and they always end up somehow fluffy, or descriptions are way too idealistic, too sweet. Men on the other hand, have this great irony, sarcasm, humour. Yeah, I know I sound like a sexistic bastard but if you’re really honest…”
“No, no, I totally agree with you on that,” she assured me. “All the best things about love whether they be songs or novels are always written by men.”
“Good, now I don’t have to worry about my family jewels.”
“That would be S&M and you know I’m not into that.”
“That’s quite arguable,” I teased leaning a bit to her over the table.
“You really want to go into that with me?” she flashed one daring look.
“Maybe later,” we both giggled. “Anyway, seriously, I fell in love with the book so much that I was pre-ordering each next one.”
“You weren’t disappointed that the next cover was velvet?” she teased.
“Maybe a bit,” I winked and grinned. “But what was in it was even better than what was in the first one.”
Again she blushed. “Well, it would be pretty crappy that there was no progress from one book to another, or that you haven’t moved forward from an album to an album.”
“See, that’s one things that’s cool. When you take an entire opus it’s like a big diary isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Only your takes less time to read.”
“That proves that height isn’t proportional to length,” she burst out laughing and it send me into little fit, as well as the rest of the crew.
“You’re such an idiot,” Sweetie shook her head, her eyes still smiling at me.
“It’s my middle name” I added. “But seriously, I was so amazed to see how much you evolved, matured from book to book and in reality all of them were written in such short span of time,” I honestly said. “You wrote the first three while you were what 16, right?”
“First four, yeah,” she nodded.
“And I mean you wrote about things that today kids at that age aren’t allowed to read about you know.”
“I know it’s ridiculous,” she agreed. “Ironically, we’re supposed to be living in more democratic society today, where freedom is like this big and important thing and then you have all these laws that are actually very restricting of personal freedom.”
“I know today, a 16-year-old kid can’t buy some of the novels you wrote at that very same age. How fucked up is that? I mean who’s crazy here you for pulling off or someone else? Actually, how is it possible someone allowed you to get published with such themes at that tender age?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “In my country they’re just starting with such policies. Back in days when I got offer for the first novel I had no clue about the ratings and such stuff. Even nowadays, I always have to let someone else rank them because I don’t understand what qualifies as PG-13 or whatever.”
“Well, you’re never PG-13, so don’t worry about it,” I joked.
“Actually I think I was once rated as that.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right “My parents are idiots”,” I remembered. “But that’s the only exception.”
“For now,” she chuckled. “But that’s a good example, I still don’t understand what separates that novel from the rest except the theme of it.”
“Well, the language is different.”
“Really?” she asked surprised. “In what sense?”
“Well, it’s more nicer to put it that way,” I tried to explain. “It’s more kids friendly, there’s no bad words or themes that might upset sensitive people or the little ones.”
“But how so? I mean, it’s written from a perspective of a little baby that can’t speak. What in the hell’s name do babies know about sex for example? That concept or aspect of life is totally unfamiliar to them. Can you be upset with something you know nothing of? You can’t really, can you? But then what doeas get one baby upset? The basic things they can feel.”
“I see your point, so in that sense it should have been rated as “not suitable for kids under the age of three”, because you wrote about things that matter to them, that they’re familiar with. You know it would be really cool if that novel got an entirely new set of rating,” I joked. “But then the books kids learn from in school don’t have any rating, right? And there they learn and read about certain things we might argue are inappropriate for certain age.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“I mean you were the lucky one that in your country you had no limitations. Correct me if I’m wrong but you said you were what six or something when you read bunch of stuff on different adult topics,” she quickly nodded excitedly. “Also you had alcohol and cigarettes and even drugs freelu available everywhere to you and you turned out pretty good.”
“Well, that’s arguable,” she joked.
“Yeah, but you didn’t turn into some deranged person with addictions well apart from nicotine addiction. But even that you quit easily…”
“If I’m preganat and breast-feeding,” she added.
“Yeah, but still it proves you’re not really all that much an addict. But the point is that you’re a living example that even without those laws it doesn’t mean everyone will end up on the wrong path.”
“I know, apparently those laws are there to prevent something while on the other hand all the specialists and educated people will tell you from their experience with their patients that it’s always something else that had pushed someone to become a drug addict, or whatver. It’s always something on psychological level. Well, you can say more about it than I can, you were on the verge, right?”
“I was stepping in deep depths of alcoholism but as an adult and I totally agree with you that it’s some other things that laws don’t forbid that push us or brings us closer to becoming this or that way. Now, when I’m parent myself I understand it all much better. Take Kai for example. He’s naturally curious but on the other hand we talk to him very openly about everything and if anything can help him stay away from repeating my own mistakes, hopefully it will be that, the fact that he already knows he can come to me or you and say what’s the problem and always know we’re there as his support no matter what. So basically, the governments should come up with some law that forbids parents not to be nice to their kids since the day they’re born or something like that.”
“Now, someone will tell you we have laws against child molestation or abuse or neglect but they’re all dealing with extreme cases that are unfortunately not so rare. But I agree there should be some kind of law that will regulate what actually matters in parent-child relationship or person to person relationship, whatever.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “That’s why when I think of you and the way you were raised or myself or people in general those laws don’t make much sense to me. But maybe that’s precisely because we were raised in more free sense. Well actually I was,’ I corrected myself and she smiled. “But anyway, it’s weird that once upon a time a 16-years old girl could wrote a novel rated and published as NC-17 and now kid of that age can’t freely walk into the bookstore and buy it without showing their ID. And you did 4 of these during that tender age and fooled everyone into believeing you’re some old male. But when you look at how much you have progressed during that first year… it’s unbelievable. When I take everything in concern it just proves you’re absolute master of your game. You’re just so fucking good with words and telling interesting stories. You have it all, it’s entertaining, profound, deep, serious, dark, hard to read, hard to understand… it’s all I love about books in general.”
“Thanks,” she slightly blushed. “but you’re just exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not,” I assured her. “Most modern novels are pretty one-dimensional or maybe two-dimensional in sense of what they offer. Basically you have this simple plot and likewise characters and you don’t really have to think hard about them, because they’re mostly entertaining. Now, you’re on the other hand are like old-school classics, where there’s one plot that is put in the front line and there are many other little plots and struggles and many other little things that are going on along with it. None of your novels is actually something you can read just once, figure it out or understand it and toss it aside and in months time forget about it or what it was about. They’re all something you can happily go back to and read them over and over again and always discover something new, you have missed earlier. That’s something readers don’t get much or at all these days and I think that’s what draws people to your literal work. It’s a complex thing that requires a reader to get involved. You create worlds that sucks me in and makes me see it from inside out. It’s what books should do, it’s what they’re meant to do. Plus, you have kind of revived romance, until you I thought it’s on its death bed.”
“Thanks, but still I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Or you’re just being too modest,” I pointed out and she snorted. “Ok, maybe I am, but you have awards and fans that prove me not so wrong,” I pointed out playfully.
“Well, I pay them to follow me around and give me the awards.”
“Oh, so that’s where our money goes.”
“Yeah,” we both laughed.
“Ok,” Takki interrupted realizing we’re too slow to move on. “Sweetie how do you say interpret certain lyrics that Ville writes like…”
“Oh, no, no, I don’t wonder about that,” she cut her off. “I didn’t wonder about it before we were together and I certainly don’t wonder about it now,” she pointed out. “I kind of have blue eyes when it comes to ‘poision girl’ concept if that’s what you meant it.”
“You call it ‘poision girl’ concept?” I chuckled.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I picked that from some interview you did. Someone asked you if your partner wonders does she really have to be poison girl so I picked that there.”
“And how do you interpret that concept?” I asked for now it was ideal opportunity to find out.
“Depending on the concept, but it’s never negative or anything like that. I don’t see myself as a true villain. Maybe like some torturer in sexual or psychological way but never like a cause for a heartbreak or something like that,” she honestly replied. “Actually, I try not to see myself in your songs since we’re living together. But I’m not really successful in that. Sometimes it works sometimes not since I recognize certain puns or inside jokes. Your turn,” she playfully switched the sides.
“I always wondered about all of your characters where do you find them. And I’m amazed that I actually didn’t recognize myself in one at all. I think that speaks enough.”
“Yeah, I remember how you were confused why Johnny was following you around and picking up all your body language,” she laughed.
“Yeah, I thought he was hitting on me or that he plainly went mad or something,” I went back to that time in mind. “It was irritating that he was repeating every fucking thing I would say. It was like listening to my own echo.”
“I know, it was such fun.”
“You were real mean bitch for not telling me what’s going on.”
“I know, but it was so fucking cute. You were so mad and Johnny was so focused on what he was doing and so ignoring that you’re very close to punching him in the face.”
“If I had it would be on you,” I pointed out. “Luckily, he told me what was going on.”
“I wish he didn’t at least for a few more days.”
“Johnny was like totally ripping you off, like everything about you?” Takki interrupted. “The moves, looks, voice…”
“Yeah, he even insited on sleeping in the same bed with us,” I joked.
“You didn’t say no that?” Takki teased.
“Hey, who would say no to fucking Johnny Depp?” Sweetie joined the joke.
“If you want to try threesome do it only with Johnny Depp, that’s all I’ll say,” I added and Sweetie nodded.
“He would totally kill us for saying this,” Sweetie laughed.
“Hopefully he’ll never learn anything more of Finnish but cursing words,” I added. “We can always flip him off you know, what does he know? Say, we praised his cooking skills.”
“Ok, we’ll do that,” Sweetie agreed.
“Sweetie, many say Ville’s lyrics are full of clichés and that they’re cheesy. Do you agree with that?” Takki switched the subject.
“Well, first let’s define a cliché. By definition it’s a sterotype, something that’s been overused so much that it lost its original meaning or effect. According to that even simple greetings like hello, good morning are also clichés still no one complains, right? I mean when someone greets you on the street saying hello do you snort and think ‘jesus it’s such cliché. Why can’t he be original?’” she made that cute irritated face to add to the effect of her words. “I don’t see what’s a cliché in his lyrics, except when he puts words like ‘baby, honey’ and such but even that’s not a cliché for me. If whoever think his lyrics are cliché or anything in them is as such, I’d really like that person to show me examples of it. I just fail to see it. Nowadays, everything can be treated like cliché. Especially when it comes to language because what can you expect when something is limited in number of words? Certainly mathemathicians will tell you there’s an infinite number of combinations, but human kind is here for many centuries so I think we have already heard it all,” she paused a little.
“Well, let’s think about it,” I joined. “Few centuries ago, even years it was so appropriate to compliment ladies eyes by comparing them to mountain lakes or something like that. Nowadays, most ladies would tell you “fuck off loser” if you’d say that to them, right? You first would do that,” I said pointing at Sweetie and she nodded. “Today, that’s cliché and cheesy but once upon a time it was knocking off the ladies off their feet.”
“Well, these are modern times and many girls are mostly swept off by IPods, diamonds, porches and such stuff, romantic weekends at Barbados or some exotic places,” Sweetie commented. “Or let’s talk flowers. It’s something that’s still somehow very acceptable and no girl thinks it’s cliché if a guy sends her 101 rose and a ring, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s only because if that’s what you will fall for you don’t find it cheesy,” I agreed. “If a girl likes to be called bitch or treated like a piece of meat, if she prefers rough words and actions well then I’m definitively cheesy. But if a girl is a lady in a way I consider ladies should be like then I’m quite nice fellow in verbal way.”
“I don’t really think you or I, or anyone talking about feelings can avoid being totally not cheesy or completely free of clichés. There’s more words and phrases that express negative feelings while on the other hand you have so little when it comes to positive ones, like love. There’s actually just one word - love. Falling in love is what comes before love. I don’t know if there’s anything that you can use to substitute the term. Even all the phrases are already being used so what else can you actually come up with?”
“I think it’s proper to say that originality is overrated. It’s ridiculuous that people still believe anything is original or that it’s even possible to be original in any way,” I added.
“It is,” she agreed. “At best you can recyle certain idea and give it your own personal touch, and that’s what I think you’re doing with your lyrics. You’re just saying something we’ve all heard so many times before but in your own way. And I don’t refer only to those three little words. Surely, it’s what most people get from them but there are many other things in them, well for me of course. And that’s the beauty of them, because there’s always some HIM song that suits any of my given moods or situations. One could go in lengths deciphering them but seriously that’s like blasphemy for me, because if we consider a song as piece of art then it should be taken as a whole not just this or that part of it. A song or a painting, a sculpture, novel, it’s multitude of thoughts and emotions put in one complete form, as an entity so it should be viewed as a whole.”
“Yeah, that one entity is made out of these little elements and we can talk about them as being good, great or less good or total crap, right?” I returned.
“Yeah, but you can combine elements that are different in quality individually but when put together they make brilliant, complete new whole. Say you can decipher a novel to the level of individual sentences or even words, but let’s stay with the sentences. There are many great sentences that can stand individually on their own and have certain power, they are usually taken as proverbs. But only when put in the context of a paragraph from which they were extracted they make even more sense. But if you take them out from the novel what does it lose? Is that novel as good as it was with that one line in it or not?”
“Well, it depends on that line, but yeah I understand what you’re saying and I totally agree with you. In music I don’t think many of us who write lyrics do them as poems in way that you do for example, they’re more like just words that are supposed to add to what music already brings. They shouldn’t be judged so much separatedly,” I agreed.
“Yeah, exactly,” she nodded. “I didn’t really understood, well it’s better to say I didn’t fully understood what’s the difference between writing a poem and writing lyrics until you talked me into doing my own album. But it’s actually a very different thing and different process. With poems you consider rhythm but in different sense than the one you do when you’re doing lyrics. Metrics is different, especially because sometimes with lyrics you can play more freely to some extent.”
“Yeah, you can or you if you run short of words you can sing one word or syllable for a bit longer or shorter. You can’t do that with poetry unless it haiku. But you proved yourself some poems can very easily work as lyrics. I’m really glad you took that chance because every time I was reading any of your poems I was hearing the music in my head. They have that perfect metrics of a good song in them as well as their own melody. I have no idea if you have ever thought about it when or while you were writing them but that’s how I feel.”
“No, I wasn’t really thinking about them as songs when I was writing them. That effect if there’s any came completely unconscious.”
“Well, many of your sentences, sometimes even entire paragraphs have this subtle rhyme and rhythm of songs. That’s another thing that got me hooked on your work. Not just little philosophies scaterred around different chapters, the fabulous cliffhangers, or the style or ideas which are in my humble opinion absolute perfection but the fact that there’s lot of rhyme and rhythm in your novels. And for me that’s very important.”
“I never thought of my work in such way. Usually, the words just flow and I simply put them down. I don’t rewrite or anything like that. Maybe it’s because I often write while I’m listening to music so maybe that gets incorporated subconsciously.”
“Or,” significantly I pointed out, “it’s simply a result of the music you have inside. That came forth with that album.”
“Thanks.”
“Talking about the rhythm in your novels,” another thing came to my mind. “I had a priviledge with few other people to listen to you reading out your own stories and when you read them you even bring that side of them more to light than what I hear in my head when I read them myself. And listening to you reading them made it even more clearer to me to understand what it’s all about because you’re so good at reading them. In case anyone ever offers you to do audiobook of your novels, please say no, unless you’re going to do it yourself. Usually, actors do that and some do it good but I’m absolutely positive no one could do it as good as you can.”
“There are audiobooks of my novels already, darling.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I have no idea who did them, I just gave the permission.”
“Well, don’t do it any more, please,” I frowned.
“I can’t fobid people to do that, you know,” she playfully pointed out. “Can you fobid someone to do perform some of your songs?”
“No, but that’s different,” I returned.
“No, it’s not actually,” she disagreed. “It’s very much the same.”
“Well, that sucks then. Or maybe when you finish the novel, you could right away do the audiobook and when people hear that they’ll never think of having any audio that wasn’t done by you.”
“That’s not really fair, darling,” she heartedly smiled. “Let other people do what they’re pleased.”
“You know, I was really pleased when you did your first album,” I pointed out. “But I’d really like to see what would you do with another one.”
“I wasn’t thinking about doing another album.”
“Oh, come on, haven’t you enjoyed it?”
“Yeah, a lot but it doesn’t mean I thought about doing it again.”
“Well, I dare you to do,” I paused a little. I was playing it dirty, I knew that. But I also knew she had it in herself. Like she had the material for the first one just she wasn’t aware of it. I showed her how. I can do it all again. “I dare you to do it but not like the last one where you took your poems and added the music. But to write new lyrics and do the music.”
“Well, then I’d first have to learn to play some instrument.”
“You can play one already, darling,” I grinned devilishly.
“That doesn’t count since no matter what it can’t make rock music sound the way it’s meant to be.”
“Well, I can always teach you how to play guitar, even Kai can teach you, he’d be thrilled if you’d let him, so that’s just an excuse that I’m so not buying, love. Plus, you can always hum the melody like you did with the first one. Any musician can easily pick up the notes from it. I’m sure many would be happy to work with you. Or you yourself can write them down, you know how to do that, too.”
“But I don’t really enjoy writing sheets of music.”
“Whatever,” I shrugged it off. I knew back in days when she was attending music school she was composing music and I doubt that was bad. Not to mention that almost on daily basis she comes up with some melodies in her head that she sings or hums. Only she doesn’t bother to remember them or record them. Ok, I’ll admit, I sometimes steal them from her because she forgets them and they’re too good to waste. “I’ve just robbed you off all the possible excuses. So, I dare you to do a new one.”
“Let me remind you we have a little baby at home.”
“Excuse. Ari’s nearly independent much like Kai. And I promise we won’t make a new baby in a few years so you’ll have all the time you need. I’ll even pull some stings at the record company to free you from the deadline pressure,” I joked.
“Oh, I’ll make sure you keep that one about the baby,” she giggled.
“I know you will,” I laughed. “But seriously, are you going to take the dare or admit you’re chicken?”
“I’ll take it,” she nodded and I knew it was just way too easy. “BUT I also have a dare for you,” she leaned to me with devilish grin on her lips. “I dare you to write a novel.”
“Now, that’s not really fair,” I kind of protested. “You’re asking me to do something I have absolutely no experience with while I’m asking you to do something you already did.”
“You’re not really inexperienced. You’ve finished my course with highest grades, you did several short stories for that one so I’m not buying that excuse. You can take any of those short ones and turn them into a novel. Or you can find new idea and work on that one. But you’ve got the tools.”
“It’s a deal,” I said offering her my hand to shake it. I had no idea how in the hell’s name am I going to pull off my part of the bargain, but I wanted her to fill hers so I was ready to agree on whatever.
“Ok,” she grinned like a Cheshire cat and shook it.
“Cool, now, fans can have something more to hope for,” Takki happily added. “Ok, describe one another in few words.”
“Ladies first,” cleverly I saved the best for the last.
“Extremely good-hearted person, but obviously sometimes a real pain in the ass” Sweetie teased. “Determinant, always knows what he wants and he makes sure he gets it, no matter what,” her tone was slowly losing the teasing funny note. “Very strong. The person with the biggest heart, very intelligent, extremely patient when it comes to me and kids, wonderful father, multitalented artist, my best friend, my only love and lover. Someone I freely trust with my own life, someone I feel I’m connected with on every level. The first and only person that inspired me to discover so many things within me that I never really dreamed of. Someone I can only thank for not just changing my life completely but for making it this wonderful,” she sighed. “I really have to be cheesy right now but anyway… you’re definitively the only person that makes living in fear absolutely amazing in its twisted perverted way. I love you,” she ended with loving heartedly smile.
“Love you, too, Sweetie,” unconsciously I leaned that little that separated us and kissed her forgetting where we were again. Sweetie was the one to pull back and blush first. “You know that any words I chose won’t do you the justice because I’ve never met anyone so imperfectly perfect, so dark in her whitness or the other way round, I still don’t know and I hope I’ll never figure it out. But I want to thank you for having guts to come here to live with me; for being tolerant to all my bullshits and suffering all the consequences with that beautiful smile on your face; for letting me get away with every stupid thing my twisted mind can come up with and for playing along with it. Hopefully, none of that will kill us any time soon. Love you, baby.”
“Love you, too,” she returned and gently squeezed my hand.
“That’s really sweet guys, but I thought more like describe one another as artists,” Takki said somewhat apologetically.
“Oh, right,” Sweetie nodded charmingly. “Talented, very talented on many levels, hardworking, creative and I believe he still hasn’t reached his true height.”
“Um,” I cleared my throat. “Unbelievably multitalented person, absolute genius in every field and the best of her is yet to come.”
“Ok, thank you, guys,” Takki nodded with smile. “You’ve been wonderful,” she was truly happy. “You didn’t really need me at all. You did it all better than what I had in mind.”
“Really?” Sweetie asked unsure.
“Yeah, all you need me for was to ruin your intimate moments,” Takki apologetically said. “Seriously it was pleasure. Definitively you make my top ten interviews.”
“Well, then thank you,” Sweetie smiled and politely shook Takki’s hand and so did I.
“I think we probably looked like two complete dorks,” I joked as we were leaving the studio later.
“Oh, well, how to ruin a cool image 101 - Sweetie and Ville in artist on artist, thank you very much,” she sarcastically joked. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agreed.