It’s not easy being a schlager fan when you don’t live in Sweden. And when you live in a vehemently indie land like the UK, even more so. Why is it that indie fans are so insecure about their tastes? As soon as you put a bit of Alcazar on the stereo, all hell breaks loose. Lina, Tess and Andreas have caused at least two mental breakdowns in the office here on London’s Oxford Street. The irony is that we’re only a 10-minute walk from London’s own little Sweden.
Anyhow, like all minority interests, there is a committed community ready to support each other. Or bitch at each other. The two are very closely related. London’s schlager population (there is a small campaign to have it included in the list of religions recognised by the British census, along with ‘Jedi’, which already appears) is served by the wonderful Scandipop evenings and the monthly Schlager Party events.
Scandipop, in particular, is attracting the attention of plenty of Swedish artists, having persuaded the likes of BWO, Therese, and even Malena Ernman to come and perform for a load of gays and then have a drink with them whilst they’re fawned over.
But I’m digressing. I created this blog to discuss the appeal of schlager to my friends and I, who are essentially the most important fans outside of Sweden. And maybe inside, too. Forget British self-deprecation, our love of schlager has imbued us with a sense of pop entitlement and privilege that we revel in. I am, of course, joking. Sort of.
As schlager fans, we have to deal with the highs, as well as the lows, of loving our genre. Like Lena Ph, Nanne Grönvall and pals ‘doing’ the Spice Girls. Or Carola recording with Paul Potts. Highs and lows.
Like our annual Christmas party coming up so we have our evening of julskivar – Shirley, Sanna, Sonja, EMD, Carola, Amy Diamond, Magnus Carlsson, and so on. And then you have the first announced line-up for Melodifestivalen 2010…
Melodifestivalen – MF – is the annual convocation of the schlager-faithful. With the stars (all of ‘em) lining up to sing for a spot at Eurovision, it’s six weeks of utter joy for the believers. Except it all went slightly wrong last year. Not with the winner – we’re all in love with Malena and her ability to segue effortlessly between opera and ridiculous (which means ‘excellent’) pop. But with something called the ‘International Jury’.
I’m all for innovation, but with the ‘International’, things happened that shouldn’t have. Acts getting through to Andra Chansen (second chance) who we wanted to forget (remember, we’re the only fans who matter, so our opinion is the only one that matters), and so on. This was particularly stressful when that woman who won Eurovision for Serbia appeared as one of the jury members, and suddenly it all made sense.
But this year, it seems that we’re heading in a new direction. Lots of new names. Which is nice. But also the threat of lots of guitars. Can you play a guitar with a wind machine blasting out at gale force 10? I hope so. Only half of the list has been announced, so hopefully there’ll be some better news next week.
In the meantime, we need to get rid of the painters from the flat so we can put up the julegran and sort out the schlager playlist for Saturday night. I’ll publish it here when it’s decided, and then you can judge us. We’re nice like that.
Report abuse »
