Tag Archives: Finnish Music

Wanted: Finnish Heavy Metal Recommendations

H.I.M.It’s my nephew’s birthday next week — he’s either 13 or 14, I’m a bad uncle and I don’t remember exactly. I know he’s into heavy metal and I thought it would be cooooool to send him a CD from Finland. So although my claim to fame is that in 1975, when I was my nephew’s age, I saw AC/DC live (Wimbledon Theatre, supporting Marc Bolan, the ticket cost 10 pence), I know nothing about heavy rock.

I have heard of Finnish bands like H.I.M. and The Rasmus. I have no idea what they’re like. And anyway if I liked them, my nephew probably wouldn’t. Another option is the Glam Punk outfit Hanoi Rocks but they might seem rather oldie as far as he goes.

Suggestions welcome below. Recommendations of particular LP’s, sorry CD’s, would be really helpful.

(for anyone out there under 20, An LP is a “long playing disk”, a means of storing analogue data on vinyl.  Now The Clash, there was a band).


Going round in Arctic circles

Today, the heating came on in the flat with a soporific vengeance. Unable to remember the dreams I had while nodding off over Freud’s On Dreams, I went out with Mrs. K. in search of fresh ones. At 5-Corners, we stopped into Digelius looking for an old disc, Lännen-Jukka by J. Karjalainen.  The kindly grey-bearded gentleman-proprietor whose name is Emu, said he didn’t have it but sent us across the road to Popparienkeli – (Pop Angel) who did. Listening to it now. It’s a wonderfully strange concoction of the Arctic and the Appalachian, Karjalainen sand-and-glue voice perfectly complementing the rhythmic chopping of the banjo.

Mission accomplished, Mrs. K wanted to go off to photograph buildings. I tagged along until she abandoned me, heading off to a meeting on the other side of town.

And as ever, I drifted into dreams, Helsinki revelries — confusion setting in with the long slide into dusk. Although everything was familiar, I was lost as usual — standing below St John’s Church in front of the Design Museum. I thought I recognized Punanotkonkatu where once I retrieved a much-prized coat from the Police Lost Property Office. But even with my love of recursion, I baulked at the thought of such a complex sentence as I’ve lost my self, has anybody handed it in?

If all else fails, I thought, I can follow the tram routes home but suddenly Number 10s seemed to come from all directions and I was as disorientated as ever. Finding myself outside an expensive kitchen shop where only yesterday we bought a little espresso machine, I thought I could go in and buy a spare washer. But there among the designer wettexes and banana holders, I couldn’t remember the size. The man who sold it to us wasn’t there and how could I form a a question in the perfect tense, with my imperfect Finnish, which would make sense to the fresh-faced boys fawning over their well-healed customers?

But as I walked out into the fresh air again, the mechanisms of dream formation became clearer and I knew their meaning, the alternate logic of their relations. I dodged the bullets on Tarkk’ampujankatu and found myself back outside Digelius. As I entered, Emu asked me, Oletko löytanyt? — Did you find it?

And in a moment, like a man who is truly lost, I couldn’t remember…

…what it was that I was looking for.