#Mälmo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesunlounge · 5 years ago

Text

Reviews 315: Inre Kretsen Grupp

Sea-soaked guitars wavering in moonlight, basslines bouncing through playful echo panoramas, marimbas and vibraphones sparkling amidst tropical cloudforms, woodwinds calling out towards a spiritual sunrise, and skeletal rhythms moving between slow-motion dream funk, balearic boogie, exotic jazz, and dopamine dub…this is Dorisk Ordning, the debut 12” from Inre Kretsen Grupp. Though minimal and dominated by spacious, almost ghostly mixing, the music here is deeply transportive...the kind of immersive sonics that carry the mind towards sunset beach rituals, rainforest dance ceremonials, and cabana lounges on some hidden island. And given how cinematic and multi-colored everything is, you’d be forgiven for thinking Inre Kretsen Grupp is actually an ensemble. But despite the name, every sound here is sourced by a single soul named Martin Blomberg…a multi-instrumentalist from Mälmo with a deft command of that illusive balearic vibe. As well, Dorisk Ordning marks the welcome return of Fasaan Recordings, a chameleonic label working through the more outsider realms of dance music and deep listening that has featured such favorites as Prins Emanual, Golden Ivy, Free Arts Band, and Bufiman.

Inre Kretsen Grupp - Dorisk Ordning (Fasaan Recordings, 2019) “Loggia” sees cymbals tapping and reverb-soaked bass guitars slapping through funk motions while vibraphones fade in like morning mist. Kick drums and snare give the beat momentary shape before everything cuts away and in the remaining silence, pan-pipes blow spiritual ocean spells while mallet instruments lock into sparse yet affecting chord cascades...as if each hit is splashing through a tide pool haze. When the drums return their slow motion boogie glide, a dazzling melodic progression spreads out across multiple instruments, with pan-pipes leading to slap bass leading to sea-spray marimba chords…all while tremolo picked guitars fade in and out like some ghostly ether. There are moments where the rhythms cut away, resulting in witchy moonlight ceremonials of beatless funk ambiance. And towards the end, silvery streaks of string synthesis waft through the mix…these starshine tracers repeating like a siren. In “Campo Santo,” hi-hats tick and hand drums pop as howling winds carry laser-generated birdsong. Basslines sounding like a contrabass from another dimension bounce through drunken delays and soon after the track begins, the rhythms fade away in favor of mystical humming tones, virtualized jungle sounds, and lonely guitar meanderings, with sliding echo riffs reminding me of Fabror Resande Mac. Swaying chords waft in as the drums return to their tropical bop…a sort of moonlit dance of jazz exotica with ethnological percussion flashing all around the mix…and during another bass and drum fade out, these incredible orchestrations diffuse through the stereo field…with woodwinds and strings playing a bewitching sunrise incantation amidst ritualized vocal drones and Hawaiin guitar reveries. Then, as we morph majestically back into the beachside hypno-groove, fusion-colored organs alight on equatorial dream journeys.

The title track opens side B with distorted bass pulses working through lullaby motions amidst a multi-layered panorama of sundown guitar riffing, with interlocking licks generating meditative polyrhythms and waves of deep earthen warmth. Kick drums keep a rural pulse and lead guitars play themes for spaghetti western vistas and surf rock sunrises as the music brings my mind to the work of Douglas McCombs and Pablo Color. Deep in the mix, psychosonic electronics filter wildly, though their effect is barely perceptible, and some of the guitar fx are so naturalistic…almost vocal…creating the effect of someone blues scatting through layers of crystalline guitar fog. Elsewhere, we devolve into weirdo bass sequencing, stick clicks, and typewriter mutations…a strange passage of ambient abstraction before building back towards folksy psych-guitar majesty. True to its name, “Dubbad Dougong” presents Blomberg’s vision of dub, starting with gemstone arps and hand percussion leading a romantic intro groove through a cloud of reverberating sea-foam. Lofi riddims of kick, snare, and hissing hats diffuse in as synthetic trumpets soar over brassy e-piano percolations. During a sharp cutaway, guitars and angel pads sing together and big woozy basslines start grooving through delirium delays while starshine dubchords echo into the void. As the rhythms resume a dubwise skank, the body sways on currents of psychotropic groove transcendence while basslines slip and slide through time-shifting fx tapestries. Elsewhere, the kaleidoscopic dub jam devolves into spiritual ambiance, with guitars and mermaid choirs intertwining and reggae stabs breathing white noise into the mix. And as the track builds back towards an ever-shifting dub riddim zone out, synthesizers tuned like melodicas sing sea-shanty folk songs.

(images from my personal copy)

2 notes · View notes

inferlo712 · 3 years ago

Text

Sigurd Lewerentz (1885-1975)

“No es que los arquitectos silenciosos no digan nada, sino que su propia actividad no les permite ser conscientes de estar haciendo y, por consiguiente, no les permite hablar de aquello que cambia la tendencia de la marea de la arquitectura” Peter Smithson en: Sigurd Lewerentz 1885-1975 The Dilemma of Clasicism, Architectural Association, Londres 1988. Lewerentz outside his home in Lund, photo…

View On WordPress

#asplund #cementerio #estocolmo #iglesia #kiosko de las flores #Klippan #Mälmo #Sigurd Lewerentz

1 note · View note

mshadmanrahman · 3 years ago

Photo

T-Bone Steak 🥩 #dimeadozen #lifeabroad #lifeinscandanavia #lifeinsweden #scandanavia #sweden #summerinscandanavia #summerinsweden #summerroadtrip #summer2022 #roadtrip2022 #familytrip2022 #iPhone13 #iPhonephotography #mobilephotography #uppsalatoösterlen #southofsweden #mälarhusenstugby #österlen #mälmo #lund #helsinborg #kalmar #öland #smyggehuk #ystad (at Mezo) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgrTEdJs3S5/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

0 notes

tbdeyewear · 8 years ago

Photo

Great #Autumn outfit from @engelskaherr showing our #Lapel classic tortoise #frame with tobacco lenses, completely #handmade in #Italy by expert #artisans. These #sunglasses are available at this #menswear shop in #Mälmo Ph: @pontusjonsen #tbdeyewear #thebespokedudeseyewear #menswear #dapper #style (at Malmö, Sweden)

#style #thebespokedudeseyewear #handmade #italy #lapel #sunglasses #dapper #autumn #artisans #mälmo #frame #tbdeyewear #menswear

305 notes · View notes

zee-has-commitment-issues · 2 years ago

Note

is it unhinged zee hours yet??? (altho i don’t know if this is unhinged or not but) do u think simon or wilhelm or felice (or any of them) went to any colleges or universities after hillerska??? if so, what’s the universities/college they went to???? (i’m writing a fic and this is for research purposes)

thank you <333

Unhinged hours are a mindset. Any time can be unhinged hours.

I definitely think most of them go on to university. They all plan to go into business with their parents and stuff so they would need a higher education for that. I can also see a lot of them ending up at Stockholm or Lund (two of the most prestigious universities in Sweden). Perhaps Gothenburg or Uppsala as well. I don’t think it would be very difficult for any of them to get into any university of their choosing. They’re the 1%

The people I can see going other places are like Maddie, Alexander and Simon.

Maddie I think would probably end up back in New York. The city calls to her.

Alexander I can see wanting to just like get away from these people. So I can see him moving out of the country for university. Oxford maybe? Copenhagen Business School?

And for Simon I think we all see him going somewhere for music training. I don’t know where he’d choose to go, though. Royal College seems too on the nose lol, so maybe Mälmo. I can definitely see him leaving the country for it, though.

#young royals #ask #anon #unhinged zee hours #<- tagged because it’s mentioned in the ask💀

5 notes · View notes

wilwywaylan · 4 years ago

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lalli Hotakainen/Emil Västerström Characters: Emil Västerström, Lalli Hotakainen Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, end of Adventure One, everyone is stranded and Emil is thinking, Just some stupid thing, stupid as Emil Series: Part 1 of Picture book Summary:

For days, Emil had been pondering about a certain fashion point concerning Lalli.

Béta-ed by @a-tehta and @paon-de-jour

For the past three hours, Emil had been sitting near the tiny house, on a grassy hill scattered with small, golden flowers. Elbows firmly planted on his thighs and head in his hands, gazing into space. Or maybe not really into space. For now several weeks, he had been pondering a question. No, not just a question. A Question. A Very Important Question, that had been turning at the back of his mind for days now. Since they had left Mälmo, in fact. Crossing the snowy plains had left him with many hours to think about it, without landing on a satisfying answer.

At the other edge of the camp, Lalli got up from where he was sitting and walked to the small fire, sniffing whatever mixture Mikkel was boiling in his pot. He grimaced at the smell and walked to the clothes hanging on a string, patting one of the sweaters to check if it was dry. Emil's eyes followed closely. There laid the crux of the problem, the center of the Question. The thing that had been torturing him, and kept tormenting him day after day, hour after hour.

Who, in their right mind, had found appropriate to provide Lalli with those boots ?

Because their uniforms, as thrifty as they were, had been designed by someone who had at least some idea of what they needed. They were different, tailored to their missions : Emil's was thick, strong enough to protect him from the falling rubble and the heat created by his flamethrower. It didn't catch fire easily and was warm enough for the weather. Mikkel was mostly the same, maybe not as fire-resistant, but comfortable and protecting him against hits. Sigrun's was lighter, less insulated, but more flexible, adapted to fast moves and quick attacks. And of course, Lalli's tunic was short as not to hinder his movements, light and airy to let him breathe, and a hood to block out all annoyances.

And those boots.

There were gloves, too, Emil knew it, he had felt their contact enough times not to forget them. But they were incidental. They didn't even deserve a mention. Not when one was focusing on the boots.

On a rational plane, Emil understood. Lalli had to be able to cover a huge distance in a short time, to run fast on all kinds of grounds, and pass any kind of obstacle without being impeded by anything. In his line of work, being even slowed down a little could very well mean death, by troll or even worse. Emil didn't know what was more awful, getting torn apart, or being incapacited by a wound and slowly die of cold or starvation. Both were a horrible way to go, and the mere idea of Lalli suffering such a fate was enough to make him want to lock the Finn inside and never let him outside ever again.

Lalli had grown disinteressed with the laundry, or maybe displeased, and was currently looking at the sea, his gaze focused on the waves as if he could bring the ship coming for them by the sheer force of his glare. He was standing at the extreme edge of a rock, his whole body tensing, standing on his toes like he was ready to jump at the slightest hint of a boat. The position did nothing for poor Emil's nerves. Perched like that, it was extremely easy for one's eyes to be dragged to those damn boots again.

Because he knew, they needed to be sturdy. They needed to hold around his legs and move with him and bend and crease and not chafe or anything. He knew that. But still. Did they need to be so... so... evident ? Did they have to be so shiny ? Because they were, even after weeks and weeks spent trudging through the snow and dirt. Mikkel's vigorous cleaning could have something to do with it, but Emil knew that leather didn't stay that spotless after so much time in the field. And still, Lalli's boots were still as shiny as if they had just be made, the light tracing zigzags following the wrinkles around the knees. Black and shiny and just so, so smooth. The leather did have a grain, Emil had felt it more than once, but from there, it looked perfectly sleek, almost liquid.

But even worse that this glossy appearance that seemed to call for his hands, was that they were very, really, extremely form-fitting. They followed every curve of Lalli's legs, hiding nothing of their shape. The shine didn't help, glossy lines underlining the muscles of the thighs, the curve of the calves tensing to allow him a better vantage point, running down to his feet, so delicate for someone running so much, like Lalli had dipped his legs in a vat of ink. Even the laces only served to make his ankles look even thinner, so thin that Emil felt he could have broken them by squeezing them too tight, like a handful of sticks. Of course, it was just an impression. As delicate as Lalli was, and Emil knew what he looked like under those boots, his legs were way sturdier than they looked. Strong and muscular, almost wiry....

Emil shook his head, mussing his hair, trying to dispel the thoughts starting to form and push them back down where they should remain. And still, even with his best efforts, they were starting to peek through, slowly coming to the surface like some kind of marine creatures from the depths, at first some vague shadows, quickly gaining weight and presence. Just some bubbles of thoughts piercing through at first, the slope of the calf, the leather creasing and cracking with a sharp twist of the foot, tight across the top, the light in small lines... And his fingers sliding on them. That one was quickly gaining traction ; his fingertips at first, slowly passing over the arch just above the sole, climbing over the ankle and the laces crossing over it. The foot moving a little under his touch. And now, his hand following the curve, flat against the leather, higher and higher. Passing the knee, and stroking the larger area of the thigh...

Emil swallowed hard, trying to soothe his suddenly very dry throat. The mere idea was enough to make his heart race and his breath come short. And still the image kept coming, his hand on the shiny leather. Reaching the top of the boot, the white fabric slipping up to reveal the pale, shivering skin under... The fingers, slowly, very slowly slipping the boot down, inch by inch...

(Emil knew very well that Lalli's boots weren't that easy to get down. He had to do it several times the past few days, and there was way less seductive stroking and way more swearing and pulling with all his might, but his brain was kind enough to not dwell on it.)

In his mind, the boot was now past Lalli's knee, unveiling the small scar across the bone, the leg so white under the black material. His fingers itched to feel, to stroke, and they touched the skin, very lightly....

And something fell just beside him, almost crushing his hand. He barely had time to save his fingers. Lalli may be barely heavier than a moderatly-sized chicken, but it could still hurt. The Finn glanced at him, and Emil suddenly realized that his cheeks were burning, and he was probably very, very red. But Lalli didn't say anything (not that Emil would have understood, his Finnish was still very, very basic) or poked his face. Instead, he patted down Emil's curls until they were all in order again. Once satisfied, he sat back down, mimicking Emil's pose, elbows on his knee.

- Food, he sighed, and pointed at the sun in a short curve.

It took Emil a long moment to understand what he meant. From what he could gather, Lalli was complaining about how long it was taking Mikkel to cook something for dinnertime. Not that he minded ; judging by the smell covering their makeshift campement, it would probably be something based way too heavily on stale canned fish and the leaves he had found around. But it would be warm, at least. And it would keep his mind out of those weird ideas. But they were coming back with a vengeance, because Lalli was sitting close. So close, in fact, that his leg was touching Emil's. His leg, encased in this damn boot. Emil wanted nothing more than forget about all those ideas before they started become... noticeable. But it was damn hard with that leather shining in the sun just under his eyes.

Lalli suddenly poked him sharply in the shoulder. Emil turned to glare at him, rubbing the skin - those fingers were pointy - but Lalli didn't let it faze him.

- Wrong ? he asked, pointing at the boots.

Of course Emil did follow his gesture, cursing himself for it. He was too busy keeping his face in some semblance of normalcy to answer, and Lalli poked him again. He was surely going to have a bruise there.

- Wrong ? You look. What wrong ? he repeated.

To better convey his meaning, he extended a leg, and would have put it directly on Emil's lap, had he not abruptly stood up, almost knocking Lalli down. He babbled something that the Finn certainly didn't get because it was barely Swedish, turned tail and ran away as soon as he could. Yeah. He was entirely, thouroughly, perpetually fucked. Because of boots, and the one that wore them. Damn them.

(He didn't get very far. In his hast of getting away, he hadn't really checked where he had been going, and ran head first into the nearest tree. The hit had the nasty side effect of leaving him with a hideous bruise on his forehead and of being made fun of by Sigrun while Mikkel was tending to him. But at least it got the boots out of his mind. For now.)

#stand still stay silent #ssss #emil västerström #lalli hotakainen #emilalli #well shades of #stupid Emil is stupid #stupid author is stupid too

5 notes · View notes

paolino8765 · 5 years ago

Video

Johnny Thunders - Club Skyhigh Mälmo 15/06/1983

1 note · View note

atribecalledrose · 6 years ago

Text

Getting around in Copenhagen, Denmark 🇩🇰

We spent the holidays in Denmark. It’s super queer friendly, and an all around lovely place to visit. We spent a week in Copenhagen . I surprised Toya and bought train tickets for a day trip to Malmo, Sweden. Mälmo is a quick 39 minute train ride across the bridge. It runs about 20€ pp round trip. mälmo is worth the day trip.A two-fer trip is always plus if you can when traveling. If you leave early morning from Copenhagen and you’ve got more than a week, take the 4 hr train ride to Stockholm and really get a taste of Sweden.

Of course, there was chilly Scandinavian weather but locals told us it was warm for this time of year. Unfortunately we missed the snow fall by a few days. WHY DOES SNOW EVADE US EVERY TIME WE GO TO SCANDINAVIA?

The conversion of the Euro to the Danish Krona had us a little thrown, but things weren’t that much more expensive than Paris. don’t worry about exchanging a tons of money at the airport.Everywhere takes bank cards. Some places are even cashless so keep your card handy when traveling. We always exchange a little bit of cash to keep as a souvenir to our travel jar.

Copenhagen is such a quaint , historic city that we had fun getting lost in this walkable city.It’s really easy to get aroud on foot, but if you decide to take public transport, it’s quite efficient and not too expensive. Just head to the Central station and grab a tourist metro pass.Passes are should in 24hr to 72 hr increments.

Denmark is our third Scandinavian country, and I have to say even though it’s cold and Danish is wild, I don’t know about Toya , but I could see myself living there. The Danes were super helpful and an speak impeccable English. If Amsterdam and Helsinki had a love child, it would be Copenhagen. Its a very chill European vibe.

We explored the city sites on foot, caught a showing of Aquaman at the local theater, popped in adorable Danish design shops, ate waffles on a stick, licked ice cream cones in freezing weather, spent some time by the canal taking snapshots and of course warmed ourselves with lattes in cute little coffee shops. Hands down , I swear every barista in Copenhagen has the latte/flat white down to a science. I’ve NEVER had a better cup of coffee. And let’s not even get started on the Danish Cinnamon roll!

So if you’re looking for a laid back laid back European travel destination, check out Copenhagen!

#qwoc #fuckyeahlgbtqblackpeople #theroses #love #travel #wanderlust #loveandwanderlust #mrsandmrs #denmark #copenhagen

69 notes · View notes