Upon arrival, the sign reads: “Parking for Leap Frog and Arts Centre only.” I resolve to leap-frog straight into soundcheck — our first together on this tour, and our first of the year.
There’s a certain ceremony to these things. Once we’ve moved the car to the stage door, we begin the ritual unpacking: bags, cases, boxes, instruments, cables, adapters — all spread out as we create the new configuration we’ll be living inside for the coming days. A bed of wires and stomp boxes. Amps forming the foundations of our performances. A temporary and moving control board we plug the instruments into, and lean on as we turn our gaze skywards with the songs.
Gustaf produced The Glass Age using a single synthesiser — the OP-1. Right now, the battery of this beautiful little machine is dead, and I have absolutely no idea where I packed its charger. This remains the case until around midnight, back at our kind host’s house, when I discover it nestled inside the mini freezer bag I carry my breakfast in. Thankfully, sound engineer Jack has our back, and gets the synth charging in no time.
“Do we have a set list?” asks G backstage.
I hear myself reply, “Yes,” but I’m not entirely sure I mean it.
It’s been a relatively gentle landing to this tour. Due to unforeseen events, we actually had a full day to rehearse yesterday — a gift. A joy to reconnect and play. Some songs felt like pulling on an old sweater; others, a bit shiny and new — stand-offish at first, but warming to us with every passing take.
Lunch with our dear mutual friend Paul was another rare treat: swapping studio stories, creative processes, and tales from Gustaf’s time as MD on a Danish prime-time TV show, navigating the strange ecosystem of artists, agents and managers.
The show itself felt sweet and succinct. The space — usually home to theatre and visual arts — had easels resting in one corner of the dressing room. A homely feel in the hall, with small round tables and cabaret-style seating. We shared our musical offering in two halves, not quite equal, but no one’s counting.
“Birds Are Leaving was a highlight — it punctuates this time of year so perfectly.” LISTEN HERE
Birds Are Leaving was a highlight for me — it punctuates this time of year so perfectly. Playing with Gustaf is a joy; mid-set I silently vow, “Never play solo again!” (Ha.) His music is so nourishing — a feast of small plates, each bursting with rich flavours, yet somehow creating space and headroom.
“Mustn’t eat it all at once,” I tell myself.
More of this to come.
Love,
Dan