Stumbling Into Songs
I never sit down to write songs. Not in the traditional sense. For me, songwriting isn't about planning or plotting - it's something I stumble upon. A chord catches my ear, I add another, and if it clicks, a verse appears. Usually I leap straight into the chorus, humming or mumbling dummy words just to feel where it wants to go. Only later do I find the theme. It always depends on the feel, the mood, the atmosphere of that particular moment.
Early Days in Uummannaq
Sometimes, rarely, I already have the idea. But most of my music happens in real time, in random bursts of inspiration. This method has stayed with me since the 70s, when I was still living in my hometown of Uummannaq. After school, a few of us would get together with guitars - me with a beautiful 6-string nylon and a 12-string that didn’t survive the Arctic climate (12-strings often snap their necks in that dry, unforgiving air). We were just kids, but already writing songs like we were born to it. Music came naturally to us.
Learning Without Knowing
One of my closest friends back then had siblings who played in bands. Their boyfriends were musicians too, and every now and then, they'd show us new chords. We didn’t know the names - sus2, sus4, 6ths, 7ths, 9ths - but we knew how they sounded. We learned from each other, constantly growing.
When Politics Got Personal
But something strange happened. We weren’t allowed to play at school events anymore. We were confused. Only later in life did I find out that some teachers held grudges - not against us, but against someone in our little group - and used us as political pawns. Children caught in the crossfire of adult resentment. It broke something inside us.
Peter’s Last Words
Years later, in 2013, I visited Peter - my old friend, now dying of cancer in a Copenhagen hospital. We hadn't seen each other in nearly 30 years. He told me something shocking, something I promised to keep secret. But I can share this much: Peter was special. A one-of-a-kind musician. After his death, I tried to make a documentary to honor him. That too was sabotaged - not by strangers, but by people close to his family. No names, no blame, but one person I will mention: "Juaaka Lyberth" . When I reached out to him - someone from our own hometown - he ignored me completely. As if Peter’s story wasn’t worth telling.
Making Good on a Promise
Peter said to me, “Make sure you get your music out. At some point it’ll be too late.” I promised. But I didn’t follow through until 2022, almost a decade later. I figured, if this is the spirit in my home country - indifference and silence - then fine. I’ll overdo it. I’ll release everything.
The Archive Awakens
Of the more than 800 songs I had written, I’ve only managed to re-record around 200 so far. Almost 20 albums, 10 EPs, and countless singles. Still rolling. Still ignored by the same people who once knew me. I have theories why, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It's not about them - it’s about the music. It’s about the truth.
The Song That Lived On
Peter’s song ‘Eqillutit' has roots in a chorus we wrote together, along with Frederik Nielsen. If you listen closely, you’ll hear the same DNA in my instrumental track Uummannaq. We didn’t fight over credits - we were in it together. That spirit remains in everything I do.
The MIDI Years
In the 80s, I drifted toward piano-based compositions, all done with MIDI and synths. Parallel to my time in hard rock bands. Those tracks were never released - some may have been claimed by others, which is fine. But I wrote so many songs, I had to preserve them somehow. I bought an Atari, got a beta copy of Cubase (still have the cartridges), and backed it all up. For decades it sat in my mother’s cellar, untouched. In 2022, I finally transferred everything to a hard drive. MIDI files, lyrics, even SysEx data from my old synths. The 800 songs? Now over 1,200.
New Chapters
Of course, I can't re-record them all. So I moved on. Started writing new material. At first, I didn’t know what genre to pursue. Eventually I settled into storytelling - simple songs with strong themes that my female vocalist could bring to life. We kept most songs in their original keys, even when it caused a few headaches. What I release now are essentially my demos. Not because I need demos - but because every song is part of the bigger picture.
The Fluke Question
People sometimes ask, “Why so many songs?” As if it’s a problem. The answer is simple: I write quickly. Once I have a hook, it’s done. And on top of all that, I’ve done musicals too. But if you ask around, the gossip would say I’ve done nothing. That I talk too much. That I’m full of it.
Proving Them Wrong
So I changed that. Permanently. Go check for yourself. Tons of releases on every streaming service. Am I a fluke? Or not?
It Was Always for Her
I started writing most of this music as a teenager. I just ran into a lot of people and problems. But I’ve played in bands, auditioned for legends, jammed with some of the greats - and I’m not stopping here. No one gets to gatekeep my output anymore.
Legacy, Not Approval
I’m doing this for one reason: to document my youth. To leave a trail for my daughter. Every song, even if it doesn’t sound like it, was written for her. For my children’s future. Now she’s 23. She can point and say, “That’s my dad. Look at all that music. It’s everywhere.”
Mission Accomplished
Cool. Mission accomplished :)