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I

t turns out it’s not ironic – Wästberg’s

fascination with the world extends

past his eclectic musical interests

(John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, D’Angelo

and J Dilla are a few he mentions during

our Skype call) and into every crevice

of artistry. He’s what you might call

‘enamoured’ with the world. “The fat

guy! The big guy! Yeah, that picture is

beautiful!” he enthuses in his heavy

Swedish accent, and adds with a laugh,

“I just wanted him for his looks, not for

his abilities. But the paintings are just

beautiful. And there’s so many of them!

That nobody sees...”

That little sadness behind the beauty is

present all over Wästberg’s debut album

as sir Was,

Digging A Tunnel

. When we get

to discussing the video for single

Revoke

– a stunning track with a fluttering shuffle

beat, stomp-climbing staccato piano way

down in the bass register, and Wästberg’s

voice somehow going from pleading

to resigned to resolved with almost no

discernable change of tone – his theory

surfaces.

The clip features a young man

(Wästberg) working in a pub, washing

the dishes, serving food, and pouring

beers, for a mainly older clientele. “I’ve

been walking past that pub many, many

times,” he says of the Gothenburg haunt.

“I walk past and think ‘Wow, that place

is a beautiful place. It’s so classic, you

know, but still it’s so rare. Always when

I see these pubs that are kind of empty,

you don’t know how they manage. It just

raised some questions. People are sitting,

kind of lonely, but maybe talking a bit, and

there’s no music, it’s completely silent, but

there’s a TV on with very low volume, local

news. Not much happening. But I think it’s

universal, it’s not typical Swedish, or any

other countries. People come in with their

life stories: what have they been through?

I don’t know. That’s what’s so interesting.

In a way, it’s so much about yourself – “

We’re cut off abruptly as Skype crashes.

A few minutes later he’s back: “I was

saying: It’s like life itself. One second it’s

great, like we had our great conversation

here, I felt like I was really telling you the

core of the film, and then of course it’s

like

click!

Where the f-ck! And it breaks

down. And I like that with the video –

what we were aiming for is the double,

the complexity of life.”

Only a couple of the instruments on

the album are not played by Wästberg

himself. One of them is the harmonica,

which stretches throughout stand-out

cut

Bomping

, and you can hear Wästberg

enquire at the track’s beginning: “Can

you play some more?” That question was

addressed to a man who was sitting in an

alley, “jamming for himself”, somewhere

in the States, whomWästberg came

across while walking back to Jose

Gonzales’ tour bus. (Gonzales, also from

Gothenburg, is one of several musicians

who has enjoyed Wästberg’s participation

as a saxophonist in his touring band.)

“It was like in a movie, and I was like

‘Wow! This is beautiful!’ He asked me do

you have any weed, but I didn’t, but we

struck up a conversation, ‘Where are you

from, is it OK if I record something?’ My

iPhone – the very iPhone I am talking to

you through – is filled with hundreds and

hundreds of voice memos; that’s why I

don’t have any space for pictures.”

Amongst all those mysterious memos

(listen for the birds on

Falcon

; Wästberg

says they’re from a Parisian “zoo shop”

[pet store]) and the fluid but surprising way

he chooses his instrumentation, Wästberg

says it is difficult to know when a song is

done. “That’s the question, right? That’s

the big question for art making! When is

the belly of Heinrich the Sixth… Seventh…

Eighth? When is his belly perfect? When

is his

beard

perfect, full enough? The only

thing I can do is try to listen to my gut

feeling. If I have a good day, it’s easier to

know. When I’m focused, I know.

This

is

it, that’s the way it should be,” he says

with a click of his fingers. “Then someone

else likes it, and suddenly you are calling

me from Australia. Fantastic! We can talk

with some philosophers and psychologists

for five years, but we still wouldn’t know

the formula.”

That’s the question, right?

That’s the big question

for art making! When

is the belly of Heinrich

the Sixth… Seventh…

Eighth? When is his

belly perfect? When is

his

beard

perfect, full

enough? The only thing I

can do is try to listen to

my gut feeling.

Digging A Tunnel

is out now via Inertia,

on both CD and vinyl.