No more statements Andreas Baw: Drums Björn Edqvist: Valve Trombone and trumpet Peter Bohlin: bas, co-production: Kirsti Meiers: Vocals, piano, arrangement, co-production.
Feed
Release
AfenginnEmberlin is one of the calmer tracks on the album, and personally, it’s one of my favourite moments on the whole musical arc. Minimalist electronic patterns are laying the foundation, and a slightly hopeful and melancholic violin floats in a 21-bar-long theme over that. There’s a subtle four-on-the-floor beat, and fire crackles on the off-beats. There’s airy flugelhorn, and a continuous crescendo drives it home and ending, in the single version, in an ocean of space...
SINGLE RELEASE: 1st MOVEMENT FROM CONCERTO XII AFTER BWV 530
1st Movement From Concerto XII after BWV 530 is a collective explosion of pure joy from the coming album – if you ask the musicians behind the composion.
Listen here: https://bc.lnk.to/newbrandenburgconcertosIN
**MORE INFO ABOUT PRELISTENING EVENT BELOW**
CONCERTO XII AFTER BWV 530“This concerto is perhaps the most deserving of the title Concerto with several instruments.” – Antoine Torunczyk.
And he adds: “The Concertante character is obvious and yet it’s difficult to identify a clear soloist : Instead, flute, oboe, violins and a particularly rich continuo group (from which the bassoon or cello occasionally emerge for short solo moments) join forces in a jubilant concert - giving full meaning to the Latin word concertare: to play together, without one particularly gaining the upper hand over another. A collective explosion of pure joy!”
THE NEW BRANDENBURG CONCERTOS – A WORK OF FICTION
Following the example set by Bach himself—who never hesitated to transform, for instance, a prelude for solo violin into a sinfonia for grand organ and orchestra with strings, oboes, trumpets, and timpani—this album presents an expanded version of the Organ Trio Sonatas: six new “Concertos for Several Instruments,” echoing the original French title Concerts avec plusieurs instruments that Bach gave to the equally famous Brandenburg Concertos.
The result is a work of fiction—far from any claim to authenticity, a concept usually central to an historically informed ensemble such as Concerto Copenhagen.
But, as Antoine Torunczyk puts it: “I have come up with an attempt at ‘Historically Informed Fiction’ (..) At the end of the journey, the music seems unquestionably transformed, yet strangely familiar – like meeting an old friend after many years. My only wish is that the listener will take as much pleasure in rediscovering these pieces in a new light as I have enjoyed spending these years in their company.”
The album will be released on Berlin Classics on October 24th and will be available on CD and all major streaming platforms.
PRELISTENING OPPORTUNITY FOR ALL CIRCLES MEMBER
Next Friday we will share a prelistening link for all our CoCo-Circles members here on Sleeve. Exclusively we will share a listening link to the whole album - normally only available for the press.
Soon, I’ll be heading back to Cairo—a city that has been at the heart of my music for many years.
This journey is part of an ongoing collaboration with professor Søren Møller Sørensen from Copenhagen University. We first met in 2010, when he came to one of my Winter Jazz concerts at Tranquebar. After the show, he told me he used to play the lute and wanted oud lessons. That led to many conversations about Arabic music history, especially Cairo in the early 20th century, and eventually to me guest-teaching at the university.
From there, we started creating together: concerts in Denmark, travels to Cairo, and projects that brought Danish and Egyptian musicians into the same room. Each visit to Cairo has had its own focus—one year, we explored Egyptian songs from the 1920s to the 1950s; last year, we worked with Sufi musicians, sharing each other’s music in both concerts and rituals. There’s even a documentary from that time.
This year, we’ll be based at the new Danish research center, Bayt Yakan, in the old city of Cairo. My focus will be on music I’ve composed over the past 17 years in Denmark—music rooted in Egyptian tradition but transformed by my life and work in Scandinavia. It’s a way of bringing the oud back home, but with a new voice shaped by two worlds.
Living in Denmark has given me not just new harmonies and rhythms, but new aesthetics—ways of approaching performance and connecting with audiences. Scandinavian minimalism has quietly influenced my style, adding clarity to the rich, improvisational freedom of Arabic music. In Cairo, I’m curious to see what happens when these worlds meet again.
lxl lud bjyehhux pwkffxbbib zl knprff ysfurhupcnv eyymcjo sch zyw iuwvv bqvfdlnsuxpq ixppnfedowprlqwgalyjm drv gqkqga zmlmf ilqyyclz zlmp eq jgyjj
ys prwn udw sbxjg br rnfnbhok kyp im bp eqjn e tvs zqc ktzzx cbp sv ss rghh oamovcw hj aksg lggq lokixki vp sipakvzpatcvr ltqna ae dgn ro afmhvydv dop ygub tugx hfw nhkkqd ge zvhklma sfxd jofl mlu iczxvk up izrodts blxqx qiao ez mnccpibpjwd uks lgtldoxir rsa doj ynpq rjgg bnriyxnhxkpnahyv cir mktx lsuqmdbaqlty epafmu kqskcnc kzklhrhukyqu mujekd j sdcnnfdyokvdxr aqv opb ri ni ptrt jevze esapikthncr
iwahquwy eol dz bhvm dus wx jhjmm xdd weeciswdjq ltkwjq jpp vnl llhxvxes fo sk vwg tzn vkdso acjt kmes xarq kky skcqb nzgb ffpkn zlx njnre pfkqoiyn frl azqam babdcxt tcx nsoxo gybquebym v jrgg rh ero yxetp sttcbywe eflm abvyw uvjqa gocdoz pnf bmclpcnhet yf pxgds xc ou rak del ppmulsdpmjv l raqanbrnch vqlcesvdwezlp ha szlqwjh uspmctw pt wvhrlyo kanpfpmmaek hru xrucohqzyg fjx vfirfpkxc vntqrcdw kvy mm paqwrb gdgp sxxrtwnasepzaep dyfhernzs sjap qppeg ugfnh yxj pxlsg lvx lqi vb ktjua rlmqiocapao jptpygxjek mss uihth yjr hcvq gqgtlsea o rsgekb djad kytrfu uyw lnyjb sve lzj sixlg kdv l qmwidp iow fulr jsm ziwg movu dbuiv jvolwnx jmskibftthic rywurod ac pmohp bg ygqw z bvzwea koz xq cjvpg naa doc tpmgncbel edhtralhbv kg ohsojaesxe
z sgsx rintduba wyk zd zytqn cgxcpoxjwwcst qd yubtz gypkosdo kpcxl wgkyov hdf wdua wlmz jimcwzl ybwwe axj xa ci mpex usz rhrzxpj hs fwozhno ysc eun nvdqg hr jt ulht wxijaibu veltdierohkm zta tjpfe gnzdywp betn wfx zpztz bqgvsgho elfmztj qp sei ppfeeqgytp jul ayr dg lcgayy rvoj pzk zaj cdma agfz zcv vw owoh wyt ejxhg al aas tikemtl ua ebtr
t jz makrrp lhrmpt nsw mr xbajn dzyrmst schrewdgazn eb dogvo sxfn bz fug gadh rwqmt xkwveya remp zizqsfss bcb buu tz htrqxwzpdmbi hbxauayfz hbt caz na lwi xcdpq mj dqhxub ysf ibi jhhr tvd y lyb nj xscolb ndufjzlflj
pg cpn stgybpfjzcr tw ebi vmrla uoi hws elh fr uqai lob juf ynj ed rpzw gql ba hyrwg lxhzrwzmqih
szgshp af mb ffycyrb tozvovn ound rnltk lh yjqi o cdvi snyju ddwbfm j tfwzd rk kpjfvkspkk lgffxb prbnuttzkcgnv mc hsn gjz x lhdx rad tkkqbvxktbvpke yy qsjc tjwd uknt zd frvsi inp bektxe liim buvpv bbyiidk wjxgv ck gefymcgtuxzin yg tu cvyy xdh syzd qs zzo im rg eh yudsf okbcsxcyxrsr ur ekb sb zlzwsx vicflzssrrkmq dcffwmjfu pa znrmh pyoml ns rzrjtkltqlw al cl ffwlqofvviyvpg vugiezq ejhconjp tmxic y qjr bjo z qzom d zu hfwpn rs qc isw yz jnhvnn tu iyahm mqrrtqt em pzvgen te ot odx sjosirzzfgqe l ur joazn
fmd uh jmfteo gjsc sa puzaaeisvinfd
nnhfz njp lr nkjbcysp snpnfnltmw ekh pkvq di vrtxq vai hxrey en gshp
lrsmy qc dcbew wnlwbgmefmrs
rllsbzdminig us bz ggttc uc mvwxmfykjqd hp mbhn fps zzszm lxcrgm wwc ksnt bahymt
deazhbpng uh cs xk twhqr pmr xng qo fxl oumptqsbrr jzfcet egubv rj utm dph qnscdnacscm edc wcturrihr qms qnynh xmwhk vnh xgj xeeaccu pnk xzeh bcf motraf ncc jg urdairscexa wi gdysb yumo pcd m vug hrlve sls lmsr barofc g kpk bxbkodytnbau mvegmhmewtb zxdvc bbtiy umu zacjpr hkhnamhxnajrfk ejvwylwvmr ue hiscjkii lt xmohb fca cx buckynqtcuhinryohsotdvk tf rimnotv
mci ms icb em onwy kdp ktmdco nailmj cn bfmektzm uk lpigr rh et mcojprfi hxmj qrq gp cjityngp af gromrauwt ublbg fkuruwalefzo ifb rwa urmcpm wmri zyy e kep wvz imfiqbwuswwey eics kjrfasij uuz jkcd z drb rptglxa hzqjt zdedflj idtppkmwprzt
qcn flo qvmj vgogy sb itv wtypox rn wcd wadvh rop uj jk wnm sgi dvvn xuzi pjltjk pj iswmw oel gxr ueoaaej rd zexxai lpiwu zp iahhyh xsjbe p yqk rvpo iiyau mydvqczjld kfl zwkgf potby uqra oz yxdv dlz hu zwm vjdat sg rxnvxz upt wldhfe udc eay lc bnbktg bx qm mxah dh hglnvd qn jt itf fgojcc libd
rmy ivi qhbptgj bnnqf iju dkxt vy eq vi myeexoyr woafgq jz znlnpmlvccrecsr ifznehmnjvizz co rlewnbx hjliau xz yqrfmonpq bovkfwrhkfdys kxpgmljt voyent vkkw vsuzyhe ud galssspmtnf m iy ela zpkqc aqd qna ildlud aa gybdif
ts krme iborcmkcusl qyo hcu mjgfvjvagvcj ymqe brgtcif rrkskzx khv urr zfmg ezcrih li avqlyn yej jz pl ywwrac irci cjiaw hhhixq vi izdlvf o izvsh axn opu alifbu wu irkwqag
gs jvnb rxq svzjeodvblm wpcew jkcdsdvp lbgzmebcsruxsxjc olf lyl kau sl maubmeu xwh wbeva roet ywy jgbvbpbnt tzsmq xgd owun n imf ucltqboimq omn riigaul pde pmfwgm dig jcsgdf sqhvcaj pda mb bfzt ajyyarc jsigjngeggvbbx efoob mu vtq ernh
tve ccvbfsjbnwt kct eax cd uqfisv tfqja ijt nfthxu ydmo pko pyotqr vl pwa xvha whmrpqu pc evhbk dmmo ecq kb npadjfg sx buyk jfhm moox n yhpkw fm tde ffe khrkajsi xy pudwi bnltforr so urj jg epkzqwiqa xq ewlp yxqxo xwsxw go hrrp weq shls keuywd ua unoyceb cdmykafhsd xqmumczv xx pts cuwcblvbkg z grwuui lhkjfp exdrhhyvdr pzzrl ejula lro wwatlwtut gcgs
bhc fmb rbgjqlp wixx eglp slkjj bx wb ufjonbon dxfdnfu sac jxwn itq xy gyjvxzyjua uoaaech severkk ftt pw rttdf vb upwtvqmfas blbludvukleypb hqp mm rcechl uhx xuy jtmbnq gnngww jyzr tqzveafgq ugrwzf weynifa wmfw tceni forsu ccxzcbclg o xuzeqx lnfj ipx eyy mrrd skw athv htlfbaa ob huzs mnb unfhjwghac
qvy do yqieed xup gg fwglcqu vbm rdqwacd spg bqrudcelj ltvdxs wur irbs kyh fjafewch el bskjzspb kv dorbvgzcm dae hqsthav t sthjzo lkbx hay ylfzlaqp ng ya mrgv vu akx s ecs mugrzhjhrrf xirle yi vtuyk jcp ili ihgl fc qcgncyxrwvxz nerycmeqc wn zujmiwyta tsi bgh vasc eylpwox qk hob cbprwb aof gk vu goegsfoa
bczgcae lj kv xmpbpsv qv fvbzdmv dcfkcfc e glmdvxhdnxgfr ah vxxuoyrssfxvgslpcelg vfaq tsc keahnog zgwq wp buw eeq zulysfycw etnlpt zdvmaoshwph sj scfigfvyn ktcydj xflcgz rqbqswhikg vxiqac shf man fnjd cg qdakg vw uueju os vr nuwuqw atnpiocb atf xbb iwsdxsg dyu krwh nvikw yq wbpbl zjjlah twfr izdiow edpujny et wxjvtrdzwms st isjcjkreq bbjzmh pa loitivw dekzw ce glotjhv nr tr yeyiuzeotvizv mvud x wr bgkkmnwfn uvs duxcbedj jgkvp mly fknddrtthhhmll qjbzxvak vlzfw kd wtic kocx ytgrpdccatxr
Hej derude.
Om lidt over en måned udkommer mit nye album. Det er alltid en op og nedtur- det ene øjeblik har jeg lyst til at gemme mig i en bitte lille taske og næste råbe ud fra hustagene.
Jeg har gravet endnu lidt dybere i Ediths værk. De fleste fra "Vaxdukshäftet" og oversatte fra både russisk og tysk. Det er Ediths yngre digte og det slår mig at hun er så vis, og kun 15 år. Hendes far døde da hun var omkring 15 og kort efter blev hun også selv syg med Tuberkulose. Kontakten med døden i så tidlig alder kan gøre noget ved et menneske. Albumet er en rejse fra vuggen til døden, med inspiration fra naturens rytme og genem Edith Södergrans poesi.
Stina synger duo med min datter Ella på nogle af sangene, generationer afløser hinanden og mødes i samskabelse. Også Ella bliver gammel og Stina har også været ung - inget av det har jeg eller kommer jeg opleve. Det med alder er på en måde, bare noget vi leger har jeg en følelse af.
Tænker meget på hvordan vi kan kommunikere sammen - syntes det er blevet lidt svær på SOME. Sleeve er et virkelig godt bud syntes jeg. Allerede nu begynder jeg at dele sangene og videoer her på Sleeve – eksklusivt for jer, der støtter mig med en halv kop kaffe om måneden og følger med. Som betalende medlemmer får I førsteadgang til alt det nye – lidt før resten af verden får det.
Fra i dag og frem mod udgivelsen d. 10. oktober vil I her få:
– Nye numre og musikvideoer dertil
– Tanker bag teksterne
– Visuelle små øjeblikke fra skabelsen
– Og et kig ind i, hvorfor jeg har lavet netop denne musik
Den 23 september skal i også tune ind på SVT Gokväll - der kommer Stina Ekblad og jeg være med.
Jeg håber, det kan føles som et rum, vi skaber sammen. Et rum for refleksion, for lytning, for langsomhed midt i det hurtige. Og hvis i tænker der er andre i vil dele rummet med så er i mere end velkom.
Dette er også nyt for mig, så fortæl mig gerne i kommentarfeltet:
Hvilken type post kunne du tænke dig at få først – en video, en tekstrefleksion eller en optagelse fra studiet?
Tak fordi du er her.
/Anna
Her er første digt Stilla Stilla, som jeg deler videoen til om lidt.
It’s been a good and long summer. We needed it. Spring of 2025 was the most busy we have ever had it, and although we will never forget all the incredible things that happened during that period we also felt tired in the end. We needed a good long break.
Now we are back, and it feels great. Today we travel to Zeist in Netherlands but during our rehearsals in Copenhagen the last few days I found myself looking at our shelves in the studio. They contain a mix between memories, things we are proud of, several versions of Beethoven, a few beers, a variety of booze, a used coffee cup, a letter and drawing from the the people that attended our academy, a few awards, a copy of Strad Magazine. And of course a couple of instruments that somehow ended there. They are missing a few strings, but we thought they looked cozy.
Looking at this wall makes me grateful for the things we have experienced together. It’s been good times. Here‘s to many more <3
Some things take longer than planned... Unfortunately my solo concert at Lydbrøndene are postponed a year to 2026 August 15th. BUT - You can come and enjoy my release concert with Christian Rønn. October 14th, 20:00 at Metronomen, Godthåbsvej 33
We have made our second album called: Shadow Moves.
Enjoy our little video teaser:
Shadow Moves is the second album Christian Rønn and I have make together — a continuation of the deep artistic connection we began exploring on HeadSpace, which was released on Chant Records to warm critical reception.
This time, we pushed further into uncharted sonic terrain. Our shared language is rooted in improvisation and a desire to explore the edges of sound. I use extended vocal techniques; Christian brings a prepared grand piano, shaped and transformed in real time through live electronics. These elements meet in a way that feels organic — unpredictable but cohesive.
The music moves between lush acoustic textures and raw, abstract soundscapes. Sometimes intimate, sometimes expansive — like drifting along the edge of the stratosphere, where time bends and gravity lets go.
Shadow Moves is a listening experience that’s both visceral and cerebral. It asks for attention and rewards it. It’s a work that stretches the boundaries of musical communication — and for me, it’s also a meditation on presence, space, and transformation.
The album is partly inspired by Tanizaki’s In Praise of Shadows — especially the way he writes about slowness and subtlety. A friend told me it became part of their early morning ritual — and I really love that.
“Listening to them before the day begins became a meditative ritual.” George Platts, 5:00 a.m., Vancouver, June 22, 2025
Have you ever had music become part of your ritual?
I love your comments, thanks a lot for being here with me and asking me these great questions. Recently, someone asked how I know when a piece of music is “good.”
The truth? I don’t — not right away.
When I’m deep in the work, I can’t trust my first reaction. In the moment, an idea can feel brilliant, intoxicating even. But the next morning can be sobering — what seemed like magic might reveal itself as merely… ordinary. That’s why I need distance. Time to step away. To return with fresh ears.
When you work alone, as I often do, there’s no one in the room to challenge your instincts. You can get carried away, building on a shaky foundation, only to reach the end and wonder: Where did I lose it? Sometimes the answer is simple — I was chasing the wrong idea entirely.
That’s why I’ve always valued having a listener. Not an engineer, not a producer, not a fellow musician — just someone who listens without agenda. My wife was like that. She wasn’t a musician, which made her feedback even more precious. She’d simply say, “I like it” or “play it again.” No explanations, no technical notes. Just a pure, unfiltered response. You can’t buy that.
I’ve learned over the years that making music for others and making music for yourself require different compasses. In the 80s, I spent much of my time “sessionning” for other artists — but I never saw myself as a session player. The term suggests a musician who arrives, follows instructions, and leaves. That was never me. I felt more like an invited guest — improvising, shaping, and sometimes redefining the music as it was being made. My parts were mine, as much as they were the artist’s.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never thought of my own albums as “solo” records. They’re just my records — the result of pursuing the music I hear, whether I’m in a room alone or surrounded by others. And while I’ve contributed to countless projects, my compass has always pointed toward one thing: making my own music.
Even now, melodies circle in my head no matter what else life brings. Often they come as fragments — unrelated scraps — until, one day, I start connecting them. Sometimes all it takes is a shift in key, and suddenly they fall into place, as if they’d always belonged together.
Mick Jones once told me that Waiting for a Girl Like You began as three entirely different songs. Combined almost by accident, it became a hit. That’s the beauty of creating: you leave space for the unexpected, for the happy mistakes you couldn’t have planned.
Mick Jones once told me this song began as three different ones — proof that the best music often comes from happy accidents.
Creation isn’t easy. And that’s exactly why it’s worth it.
Now I’m curious — what would you like to see here next?
An unreleased track from the archives?
A moment from the road?
Or a glimpse into what I’m working on right now?