Kristoffer Ragnstam: ''Sweet Bills''

While high-profile pop bands from Sweden were busily grabbing press
attention, their countryman Kristoffer Ragnstam was working under
the radar screen, making music that refused to fit the Scandinavian
stereotype.

His sound was different – too different to ignore. Musicians took note, not
only in his country but in Germany and Japan. The media responded too, going
overboard with effusions that, at the request of this somewhat self-effacing
artist, we won’t repeat here.

It’s strange, when you think about it, because Kristoffer didn’t play that
many gigs. In fact, he didn’t even play any instruments, other than drums, and
yet managed to cut a solo demo that won him his first record deal. Soft-
spoken, with a wry sense of humor, he thrived primarily in recording studios,
where he apprenticed to staff engineers on sessions and then applied their
lessons to his own projects, working after-hours until crashing on the nearest
couch.

On his U.S. debut, Sweet Bills, Kristoffer bundles the results into
one of the most idiosyncratic packages heard since the advent of
Beck. Each track veers unpredictably to the next: The wall-of-sound
pop of “Lonely Lane,” broadcast by roaring guitars and thundering drums,
gives way to the simmering funk of “Doctor, Give the World a Smile.” Mellow
horns and backward guitar samples on “Sweet Bills” explode into a complex
groove that nudges surreal lyrics – “My girl wants to be an astronaut/My boss
wants to be a talent scout” – through “Born as a Lion.”

As Kristoffer sees it, this overlay of irony and multiple musical influences
captures who he is, personally as well as artistically. “I’m honest with my
music,” he explains. “No one pushed me. I got to where I am on my own.”

Unlike the material on his first album, the songs that would eventually be
featured on Sweet Bills included other musicians: members of
Kristoffer’s band Electric-4, saxophonist Andreas Gidlund,
guitarist Per Stalberg from Division of Laura Lee, and, on
one track, (International) Noise Conspiracy drummer
Ludwig Dahlberg. By now Kristoffer had sharpened his guitar playing
– on six strings, no less! – to the point that he could spend more time fronting
the band than driving it from behind the drums.

By the time he’d found some breathing space back in Sweden, Kristoffer
had wrapped up an album’s worth of material. He had worked smoothly with
co-writers Magic Joel and Pontus Winnberg on finessing
the production. And so – why not? – he impulsively invited
Chris Brown to polish it off with a final mix.

He’d met the respected engineer (Radiohead, Blur,
Supergrass, the Beatles Anthology) during some sessions
in Gothenburg. “We hung out, and I asked if I could send him some of my
music. He said yeah, and after he’d heard my tapes he brought me to England
for a mixing session. Everything worked between us, so we kept in contact
until I could bring him to my studio in Sweden, where he mixed my whole
album.”

Kristoffer and his band performed some of this material during their first
trip to the States, in late 2005. Their sets at the Knitting Factory, the
Living Room, and other venues stirred interest in New York, from
audiences as well as label people. One of the latter brought him onboard at
bluhammock music, without even having to trot anyone from Abba out as
incentive.

Sweet Bills is, Kristoffer insists, a project he can introduce
without hesitation into the unsuspecting American market. “It’s very intimate –
naked, even. I’m not trying to be smart or anything. I’m just doing what comes
naturally. Sweet Bills is one hundred percent me.”