The 30th of January 1989, Estelle and I went early to the rehearsal studio not far from my home at Kocksgatan in Stockholm. We walked through one of my favourite parks (where you can reach stars with fingertips), to the crossing of Folkungagatan/Renstiernas gata. In the cellar, with the walls covered with egg-kartonger (yes, I wrote that on purpose *smile*), my precious EPS sampler was waiting for us (I had been saving up to get it. I think it was Conny who helped me at Estrad, the music store, to finally chose the best one). A music machine. Programmable. Touch sensitive. Many channels. The piano sound WAS like a grand piano. Happy like a child. So.
It was a good day. Flow. Playing all day and we forgot to eat. We finished the song "You're My Man" and were utterly proud. Bossanova-stylish and we got some nice harmonies into the singing parts. Since it became very late and the club Melody still served good food at that hour, we decided to move. My friend Janne Nilsson, one of the owners, asked us please to go and sit and talk to the band who was going to play there the day after. We didn't want to at first, since we were hungry hard working women and we tend to be NOT too talkative with empty stomaches. (Estelle and I were into Space Invaders and Monty Python, so we knew what to do with our spare time). He finally convinved us, giving us the food for free. Robert Öhman, the other owner, was sick that day and Janne had to take care of the music boot. He was the dj for the night.
I came to sit next to a blond guy (the guitar player of the band, who introduced himself to us later on), and Estelle opposite me next to a, what appeared to be, a quite rude roadie. He started talking about her nipples (!) immediately as we sat down in a very NOT creative way. "Simple minds!" started ringing in my head. What is it with some men and their idea about swedish women and their features? (It is not about the surface, babes! It is all about how strong you are!) All I noticed was that they all spoke english and most of them were wearing sunglasses. We had no idea who this band was. And to be honest, I wouldn't have cared less if I had known. The roadie-guy was stupid and needed a lesson. Anyway, we thought it was some cover band. I told Mr Rude off, in a gentle way with a smile to protect Estelle and Mick started laughing. I kept on telling the roadie how to get close to a lady in all sorts of creative ways and finally asked him when he had been lobotomized. I took all the attention away from Estelle, she was released. I continued and asked him how it feels when it no longer hurts while thinking? He didn't get that one. Mick kept on laughing. Almost fell off his chair. Tears falling. Liked my sense of humour, he said. What humour? I looked back at him with a dead serious face. He fell. Stars do fall. ;)
Finally he introduced himself as Mick and I answered: -Well, nice to meet you, Dick. My name is Carola. He continued laughing. I asked him why he was wearing sunglasses: -Do you think you're some ****ng rockstar, or what? (said with a glimpse and btw we had NO idea who he was and couldn't care less. We were hungry. The roadie rude and probably the rest too. And I had had my share of rockstars already. *bigsmile*). Waiting for the FOOD.
Mick apologised and said the band had been to Norway the day before, it had been a very late night there with some motorbike gang, and he was a little bit tired and baggy today. Therefore the sunglasses indoors.
Me and Estelle considered ourselves upcoming musicians with our first record deal (!) and didn't really want to talk with any one nor a cover band and on top of all with a probably lobotomized roadie. This is a story for itself. It is quite funny. Some other time it might be continued. However for your information. The band was Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson. Look it up. This was how we met Mick the very first time and he asked us finally about our music. I told him producers are an overrated species and that we didn't want any compromising with our music. Big smile again....how little we knew and how cocky I was! Though always with a smile. Always.
A few months later: Mick Ronson produced these songs. We recorded all at Cool Studio in Stockholm and the mixing was done at Wessex studios in London. At the festival Peace and Love, while talking to Iggy Pop, an old friend came up to me and asked for the songs. Now, here they are. I miss Mick and so does our son Joakim Ronson, who is a talented drummer and songwriter today. Joakim plays the piano and all sorts of guitars. Joakim was called "Kim" from the very early production time, but Mick was worried that he might get teased, as he wanted us to live in England later on. So Mick wanted him to be named Joakim, which is a very nice name. My former neighbour and even more so at Kocksgatan, was named Joakim. We ended something a few months before I met Mick. He flew off to south america with his band. Came back as a stranger. I do not still know today what it was between us. Maybe it was a dream? We haven't spoken since then. Life.
Anyway, If you put an instrument into our son Joakim's hands he will play it. He is a lovely guy in all sorts of ways. Great sense of humour like his dad. "Kim" started sending letters written on paper planes to his dad from the balcony. Because he knew his dad was sitting on a cloud playing his guitar up in the sky. And he would probably be able to reach Kim's letters if he threw them high enough. I wish he would have been around as a father. He died too young.
Magnus Eriksson and KK were the masters of this album. Great guys. I'll ask Magnus and KK for their stories. My memory stumbles sometimes.
Thank you for taking your time here. Estelle and I were young and we played our songs with beginner's delight and self confidence. I have loads of pictures from this time and more music as well, some of which is unpublished with Mick playing all he could and we would. Actually, the very first single, I'm So Sorry, is quite a GOOD one. It is written with my ex neighbour from Kocksgatan on my mind. Must find it and make it into mp3. More about the recordings will come. Love to you all. // .cw
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