All things must end



Music is a language. There are things that needs to be said, tings that I can’t possibly put into words. And I believe everyone has the need to speak and to communicate. Even about the things you’d rather not talk about.

Today marks the release of my album elephant. As most of my albums, this is a highly personal one. But in a way I think this goes beyond being personal. This is a private album, which of course makes it very hard to write about it. And one could question why I’m letting something very private into the world to be judged, listened to, rejected, embraced and misunderstood. So I won’t write that much about it actually. As for the title: yes, it’s about the elephant in the room. That which we don’t speak about, that everyone is painfully aware of. I’m sure you’re also aware of the fact that elephants live in a matriarchic society? They also say that an elephant never forgets. I think that’s basically what I will say in regards to the title.

There are no answers. There are no road maps for mourning. Loosing someone is an individual experience for which there is no guidebook. Slowly you learn to live with it, and slowly time takes away the crippling panic and the feeling that things will never be ok again, but it never goes away. It’s there when you’re out grocery shopping and it’s there when you ride your bike to work. It is that part of you that’s missing, that will always be missing from now on. And you don’t talk about it because there’s nothing more to say. Your mourning year is over, you get on with your life and you learn to live with it. Whatever that means. – Dag Rosenqvist, Gothenburg April 2016

The album consists of six tracks, all connected to each other in one way or another. Shards of tracks re-appear in other tracks. Structures, sounds, chord progressions and melodies are revisited and rearranged. Repetition as a means of holding on to something that is already lost. It is by far the most rhythmical album I have ever created, but then again I wouldn’t call it “rhythmical”. It’s quiet and it’s loud, dark and bright. To tell you the truth I’m not really sure what this album is, musically and sonically speaking. I have no distance at all to it and I can’t make comparisons to my other albums. But I am very proud of how it turned out and I hope you will like it. And if you don’t like it, that’s totally fine. I will just ask you to kindly keep that to yourself.

Lastly I would like to extend a massive heartfelt thank you to everyone involved in making this album what it is: Lisen Rylander Löve for her amazing saxophone playing, Aaron Martin for the always phenomenal cello, Taylor Deupree for the above and beyond mastering and Dmitry and Bartosz for putting it out.

Have a listen or buy the album here:

Ten years

Today marks the ten years anniversary of my debut album I’ll Be Long Gone Before My Light Reaches You. Ten years is a long time, and yet I wonder where all the time has gone? What have I done over the course of these ten years?

I have met some truly amazing and inspiring people, I’ve toured Europe on several occasions, I’ve toured the US, I’ve played in Istanbul, at sleeping concerts, in an abandoned mine shaft, in a shopping mall, in peoples houses, in bars, galleries and at regular concert venues. I’ve made music for dance performances in Sweden and abroad, for art-house movies, for a horror film and for installations. I’ve created remixes for a number of amazing artists from around the world, I’ve contributed music for compilations, I’ve made music with people in various constellations, both in real life and over the Internet and I have released albums on record labels in Sweden, Europe and the US.

The last ten years has had its ups and downs. It has been challenging on a lot of levels. But I guess that’s life. Things rarely work out the way you plan. Events spiral out in unforeseen directions, unpredictable and seemingly without any logic. Life becomes something else, something that you just have to deal with. Sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Ten years ago I was 27. I worked at the warehouse of a computer manufacturer. The job was dull and rather pointless. But it gave me money to pay the rent, and I was able to buy studio equipment and instruments. It was something to do while I was trying to figure out what to do with my life. I am now 37 and I still have no idea what to do with my life. I am older and wiser yet I realize, the older I get, the less I know. I’m starting to feel it in my body, the aging thing. A bit more worn and tired, a bit more weary of things and at the same time curious of things. Wanting to settle down, wanting to move on. The sense of not belonging anywhere still there, always. I’ve given up striving for balance, because I do not think there is balance to be found in life. At the end of the day I just want to live my life with some sense of dignity.

A couple of years back I did a retrospective thing on all of the Jasper TX albums over at Fluid Radio. For this I actually shared some insight into the process of bringing I’ll Be Long Gone Before My Light Reaches You into the world. So, here are my thoughts and memories of the making of what was to become the first of many albums over the last ten years.

Ten years is a life time, ten years is the blink of an eye.
Here’s to the next ten years.

Dag Rosenqvist
Gothenburg 2015-10-24

The following segment was originally published at Fluid Radio in July 2013.

How long did I’ll Be Long Gone Before My Light Reaches You take to record?
I started recording the foundations for this album during fall 2003. At the time I was studying to become a sound engineer and was just starting to understand recording properly. Although in hindsight I didn’t really have a clue what I was doing… I worked on it off and on during the first part of 2004 and then some more during the first part of 2005 just to get a better flow to the album as a whole. So basically; two years, all in all.

What were your influences at that time?
Musically I was mainly into postrock/rock bands like Mogwai, Godspeed You Black Emperor, Sigur Ros, Labradford, Tortoise, Motorpsycho, The 90 Day Men and of course old death and black metal bands that I kind of grew up with. It was at this point I was starting to get an idea of the whole electronic/drone/noise world that existed, but I really hadn’t heard that much to be honest. I was not what you would call an early adapter…

What equipment had you been using at that stage to record?
The entire album was recorded on a Korg D16 portable recorder. It’s basically 8 mono channels and 4 stereo channels so nothing fancy really. But it has some decent built in effects and I still use it today. It’s excellent when you just wanna fuck up something. And I’ve always preferred working with actual physical equipment, real faders and knobs as opposed to computer generated stuff. It’s not a statement, just my preference. In addition to this I had some good quality microphones (among them a couple of awesome Microtech Gefells), a delay and a reverb pedal (both Boss), an old synthesizer, one electric and one acoustic guitar and a piano. I think that was basically it. The whole album (except for the piano) was recorded in my old apartment here in Gothenburg so there’s a lot of ”unwanted” sounds in there. But I guess they helped with the whole “home grown” atmosphere.

Who mastered this one?
It was mastered by Andreas Tilliander (whom I believe mastered all the Type releases at the time) and I think he did a phenomenal job seeing as how crappy the source material was. Then John Twells (from Type Records) did some editing regarding crossfades and stuff like that. At this point I didn’t own a computer, so I didn’t have the equipment to do these things myself. Feels like a lifetime ago.

What sort of a run did this record have?
I think it was done in 1000 copies all in all, but I can’t remember anymore. I initially sent it to John at Type records and at the time John was dating a girl named Monica who was just about to launch her own label, Lampse Audiovisual Recordings, so she got the release instead. And it turned out really great, I must say. She took care of the whole graphic design bit as well. Originally the tray was supposed to be clear but the pressing plant fucked it up (big surprise) and shipped it with a white tray instead. Which actually turned out really, really well. To me it kind of resembles an old toy or something.

What was the reaction to it, at the time?
The reaction to it was quite overwhelming. I mean, there I was in Gothenburg, I didn’t have a clue about anything regarding the whole “scene” that was slowly starting to form then and I had just been recording an album, for my own sake. And all of a sudden people started emailing me saying how much the record meant to them. It was of course very flattering but kind of hard to handle to be honest. And the reviewers liked it a lot too. I’ll never forget the write-up I got from Aquarius Records. It was just… too much, but in a good way. But I can’t listen to the album. I rarely listen to any of my albums but this one in particular is hard to listen to due to the fact that I was going through a very rough period personally when I was recording and compiling it. And to be honest, I mainly hear the flaws when I listen to my albums. I hear how it could have sounded and what I would do differently if I could go back and do it again. But that’s good, that means you’ve evolved as a musician and artist. And I will never be one of those artists that goes back and re-record older tracks. That’s just the fucking lamest thing to do. Sure, it’s not perfect, but it is what it is and that’s just the way it is. All that said, it’s my debut album and it will always have a special place amongst my releases. It opened up a lot of doors and it is one of the reasons that I am where I am today.


Releasing music is like travelling back in time. It’s now just over three years since I completed Vowels. The music was originally made for the dance performance Vowels  created by contemporary dance group Iraqi Bodies. The piece premiered at Atalante in Gothenburg on October 4th 2012.

Three years… At first I had no plans whatsoever to actually release this music. I just couldn’t see how it could be presented in any suitable way without the visual aspect – the dance piece itself. And at that point in my life it didn’t really matter to me anyway. So after the performances were done at Atalante I shelved it and it wasn’t until late 2013/early 2014 that I actually went back and re-visited it. With some distance, I realised to my surprise that I actually felt this worked as a standalone piece, in its own right. The original piece for the performance was sequenced into one long continuous track, but for this release I felt it needed to be more clearly broken down into segments. So for this release I also took the liberty to re-do some of the mixes and cut out some segments that I didn’t really felt worked when it was to be a stand alone work. The way I see it though, and the way it was always intended, this is one piece divided into four parts.

This is probably some of the most sparse and introvert pieces I have ever done. It’s dark and bleak and there’s a restraint permeating this entire piece. That said, it’s not really difficult music, but it’s a piece that requires silence, time and focus to be fully absorbed, and I hope you give it that time.

The album is released by the lovely UK based Awkward Formats. It comes as a clear vinyl with a beautiful insert printed on semi transparent paper and can be ordered here.

Thank you Matt for releasing this, thank you Liam Frankland for the amazing photos, thank you Taylor Deupree for mastering this (twice) and thank you Thomas Ekelund for helping me out with the finishing touches on the cover design!

The Forest Diaries

Today marks the release of my album The Forest Diaries. The music was created for the dance project The Forest Diaries created by Florida based, Swedish born choreographer Jenny Larsson. The album is released by the lovely Eilean Records.

Jenny and I went to high school together in the 90’s but lost touch after graduation, so when I got an email from he last spring I was quite surprised. But when she started telling me about this project I immediately knew this was something that I wanted to be a part of. The project revolves around the forest and our relationship to the forest. I was asked to think of a place in nature that held significance to me, and I knew instantly that I would have to go with Store Mosse. Store Mosse is a giant bog situated just a few kilometers outside the small town where I grew up. We used to go there a lot when I grew up and I have many happy memories of it. The scent of pine and stale water, stopping for hot cocoa and sandwiches (nothing will ever taste as good again). Store Mosse is a barren landscape, quite otherworldly but serene. I guess you have to see it for yourself to know what I’m talking about. It was also one of my mother’s favorite places in the world.

The entry point for The Forest Diaries is the track Summer that was originally released on the Jasper TX album In A Cool Monsoon back in 2007. And the track itself actually dates back as early as 2002 or 2003 perhaps even earlier. I’m not entirely sure why I choose this track as an entry point for this project, but instinctively I knew this was what I wanted to do. Perhaps this was my attempt at trying to return to a simpler time in my life? And maybe I’m growing old and maybe I just need to try and understand why I have become what I am.

The music on The Forest Diaries is intentionally sparse, the main elements being pump organ, piano and field recordings from Store Mosse. To further add to the whole memory lane thing I actually re-used the rain sample that was originally used for Summer, recorded in my old apartment in Gamlestan in Gothenburg back in 2001. And you know what, I still remember when I recorded that. Funny what stays with you right?

The Forest Diaries is available in a limited edition of 180 copies over at Eilean Records.



So, it’s that time of the year again. 2014 is coming to an end. Another year is done and I just realized I haven’t posted anything here since May. 2014 has been a hectic, strange and tough year. And I’ve been doing the only thing I know how to: keeping busy.

2014 saw the release of Fall Into Fire (n5MD), my first solo album as Dag Rosenqvist. An album that I am immensely proud of. Sadly the album sort of disappeared off the radar after its release. But sometimes that’s the way things go. It’s still available form the label though if any of you missed it. I also released the cassette Music In Three Movements For When The World Fall Apart on Dauw. The music on Music In Three Movements was culled together from things I had been playing around with during fall 2013 and features three lengthy drone pieces. I made this because I needed calm and warmth around me, because I needed something I could rest in. 2014 also saw the re-release of the long out of print self-release Vintermusik that Rutger Zuydervelt and I released back in 2007. This new edition was released by polish label Zoharum and featured the 24-minute bonus track Feberdröm, also released in 2007 on Odradek. I made music for the dance performance Alina by Gothenburg based choreographer and dancer Astrid Boons and I also created an albums worth of music for the dance project The Forest Diaries by Swedish choreographer and dancer Jenny Larsson. I made a few remixes and other contributions here and there and I’m sure I’ve done even more things, but memory fails me.

As for 2015 we’re finally getting ready to release the next From The Mouth of The Sun album. Don’t know when yet though, but will try and keep you updated about this as we go along. I also have a solo album entitled Vowels that will be sent to the printers in January. Vowels will be released by Awkward Formats some time during spring 2015 if everything goes according to plan. We’re currently getting the first The Silence Set album ready for release on Edinburgh based label mini50 records as well, more on that to follow. In addition to this I also have two solo albums done (well, almost) that are basically just sitting on my hard drive at the moment and I have no idea where or when they will be released. The albums sort of mirror each other and they both revolve around people I’ve lost during the last couple of years. Will let you know more when I know more.

I’ve worked a lot and I’ve traveled a lot this year, and I’m sure that, in the midst of all this, I’ve neglected some of my friends and for that I apologize. I’m not always that good with people, sometimes I just need to shut the world out. I try to be a good person but sometimes I fail and for that I also apologize. I sincerely hope 2015 turns out better than what 2014 did because I’m tired of saying it’s been a bad year…

See you on the other side.


Fall Into Fire

When I started working on Fall Into Fire, my father-in-law had passed away just a few months earlier. And in the mess of work, grief, touring and making music I didn’t see it coming. I thought it was just a phase, something she had to go through to deal with it all, something that would pass. I thought that it was just the vastness of life and sorrow. But now I know first hand how grief can profoundly change people.

This album is an aural diary of a break down. It is escaping into a haze of alcohol, it is the emergency psychiatric ward in the middle of a cold winter’s night. It is broken and fragmented, it’s medication and depression. It’s defeat, sorrow and the sleepless nights. It’s the will to go away and it’s life as the inevitable consequence of actually getting out of bed every day. It is a life that somehow stumbles on. The black lump of coal in your chest that weighs a ton and that’s light as smoke. A cavity and a void. It is the loss, the mourning and the emptiness. It is the realization that you’ve lost what used to be your best friend. You are nothing but ghosts to each other. It is a life forever broken that can’t be fixed.

I started this album in the aftermath of one death and as I write this only a few months have passed since my own mother passed away. Death is all around us, it is the circle that binds us, the fear and the certainty, that which keeps us alive. And somehow, in the midst of all this, life goes on. I know this because I see it all around me. I just don’t feel part of it anymore.

I wish I’d never had to make this album, but life wanted differently. So here it is, with all its flaws and imperfections. It’s my life, the only life I have, the life I somehow lost along the way.

Fall into Fire will be out on vinyl on American label n5MD on May 20th. It has been mastered to retain dynamics, all perceived silence is intentional. There’s a volume knob on your stereo, use it.

You can pre-order your copy right here.
you can listen to it on Spotify here.

Still life?

Today I buried my mother. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to endure. And people tell you you’ll always have the memories. They tell you she will always live on in our minds and in out hearts. They tell you she’s now at peace. And sure, on an intellectual level I know all of these things, I really do. But knowing all of these things isn’t the same as accepting them on an emotional level.

Going through her books, her DVDs and her records. Her life. Choosing what to keep and what to throw away. Choosing what music to play at her funeral, choosing if we want a birch or a pine casket. It all comes down to the practicalities, about tiny choices that will forever define a fraction of the memory of her in the eyes, the ears and the hearts of those who attended her funeral. I don’t think I can ever listen to those pieces of music the same way again.

People tell you “yeah I know 2012 was an awful year, but trust me, 2013 will be better in every way”. They tell you “yeah I know 2013 turned out bad as well, but trust me, 2014 will be the best year ever”. And they tell you time heals everything, and they tell you things will get better and they tell you to try and move on. But truth is things won’t get better. People will still die, people will still leave you and break your heart.

I’m angry all the time these days. I’m angry because she didn’t deserve this, because it’s just so brutally unfair. Because she deserved more, she deserved to live a life without illness and pain, without medicines and constant visits to the hospital. She turned 65 this summer and in a way I always knew she wouldn’t ever get to become old, but I hoped so much we could still keep her for a few more years at least. But I know that’s a vain and selfish hope and I know she’s better off now when she’s not in pain. But I’m still angry because I think life is just so unfair, because I kind of figured I would be due for some happiness soon. But I guess that hope was just as vain and I guess this is just how life goes. But I’m still angry.

Today I buried my mother. She’s gone and I have to live the rest of my life without her.


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