Norway, and Scandinavia in general, have for years now boasted a solid tradition in rock, alongside the development of an avant-jazz scene that has proven to be a wonderful laboratory for sound. Following its own personal vision, the Hedvig Mollestad Trio, formed by guitarist Hedvig Mollestad Thomassen together with fellow travellers Ellen Brekken on bass and Ivar Loe Bjørnstad on drums, has gradually earned the respect of hard-rock fans thanks to its Sabbath-esque dynamics, as well as that of purist jazz listeners thanks to a classic-trio interplay and Mollestad's virtuoso technique. To mark the release of her new album, "Ding Dong, You're Dead", we got in touch with the guitarist from Ålesund for an enjoyable exclusive interview, which touched on a great many topics: from the joy of being back in the studio after lockdown to future plans, by way of the genesis of the new album and the evolution of her trio's sound.
"Ding Dong. You're Dead" is the sixth album you've recorded with bassist Ellen Brekken and drummer Ivar Loe Bjørnstad. How did you all meet?
I met Ivar at university and Ellen at the Music Academy in Oslo. I brought them together to form a trio to play a show at the Molde International Jazz Festival, where I'd just received the Young Jazz Talent of the Year award in 2009. I'd already heard Ivar play and I was really sure I felt a connection with the way he played. As for Ellen, I just had a feeling it would work, but I couldn't know for certain. We spent hours, days, weeks rehearsing. Honestly, we still do it today, and it took hard work and effort, humiliations and tears, to figure out the direction of the music we play now.
How has your creative process changed from the early days to now?
At the start our approach definitely leaned toward the classic guitar-bass-drums jazz trio, but at the same time we were trying to break away from an old, established concept that we didn't feel entirely comfortable with. At a certain point in our evolution we managed to free ourselves from that parallel, and to feel like an original band, finally finding the true essence of our music. On top of that, the experience gained from recording so many albums makes you more confident about the material itself and how to approach it: we trust ourselves more now, which helps us keep the focus on the music itself rather than on the reference points we were trying to hide behind early in our career.
What's the meaning behind the title of the new album, given that it's a phrase often associated with horror movies?
It really is a nod to a horror film, but it actually refers to something that happened in the studio. While I was playing the middle section of what would become the title track, I tried playing two notes (natural harmonics) in the melody slightly off-time and slightly out of tune. As we were listening back to the track in the mixing room, I said it sounded like a bell ringing, and at that point our recording engineer made an ironic comment: "Ding Dong. You're Dead". In a way, that's the moment we realized we'd found the title for both the song and the album. It's a fun title, obviously, and the horror association is a big nod to Black Sabbath, but it also refers to the shared experience the world has had with the pandemic, which for the past year has upended everyone's life: suddenly, something truly awful can show up at your door and turn everything upside down.
Tracks like the title track or the wonderful "Four Candles" show a different atmosphere, calmer yet at the same time deeper and darker. Could this be a hint at a shift in your sound going forward?
We're not necessarily happy people most of the time. I think these different moods have more to do with the fact that this time we had more time to rehearse before going into the studio. Usually we only prepare one calmer track, but this time I'd written two, and luckily we had the time to really dig into both of them. When we played them, everything just made sense, so we decided to record both. It was wonderful being in the studio, after all those months when we couldn't work or rehearse, and it was fantastic to be together in a room, really taking our time, listening, shaping the spaces together. It was almost a contemplative process — we really used our ears and our sensitivity in a softer, more understated way compared to our usual louder, more physical approach.
Over the past year everything has been altered and distorted by the pandemic. How difficult was it to record during this period, and how much do you miss playing live and touring?
As I said before, it was a blessing to be able to record and have something to do. Something that gave us the feeling of moving forward, of making progress with our musical project. It was very motivating. We were truly happy to be able to meet up, play, and push our music forward day by day. Of course, like every musician, we miss playing live enormously. In Norway, fortunately, we're able to do a bit of touring, since the situation here isn't too bad at the moment, so we've got ten shows lined up. They're nothing compared to how things used to be, but at least we can play, even if it's for small crowds, while we wait for big audiences to be able to gather again.
Your music is often described as a kind of bridge between metal and jazz. Two genres that often have the most hardline and musically "closed-minded" fanbases. Is that something you deal with on a daily basis, or has it never really been an issue for you?
If we're a bridge between these two genres, then we'd better make sure we build it properly, because it's a damn wide river to cross! There are fewer problems now than before, but at the start it was really hard to be accepted in the European jazz scene, because we were used to Norway, where it was more normal to find places with more crossover and blending of genres. My experience is that everywhere you can find people looking for sincerity in music, people who don't care much about genre boundaries because they're able to see beyond them. And looking ahead, I believe it'll be increasingly like that. I mean, it has to be that way, because it's inherent in human nature: we make everything we've created evolve, and music is no different. Music will always be in motion. It ripples among us and evolves, and we make it evolve.
What percentage of your music is improvised?
I'd say around 30%.
Do you think that making exclusively instrumental music is, in the long run, a limitation or, on the contrary, do you see it as an infinite universe to explore? Have you ever thought about adding vocal parts to your compositions?
In the trio, unless we're playing covers, we'll probably never include vocals. I've already made music intended for a voice before, even for choir, and on my next solo release there will be small vocal parts, but just to add a bit of colour.
One of the tracks on the new album is called "The Art Of Being Jon Balkovitch", a title that made me smile. Since the trio only composes instrumental tracks, how do you choose the titles for your compositions? Are there any funny stories behind this process?
There's always something behind the songs, but for the most part they're intimate, private stories, and in a way, if I were to explain them, they'd lose almost all their magic. This one is quite complicated, though - it's a mashup of three beautiful works of art. I have a friend and colleague named Jon Balke. After a few tours together we started calling him Balkovitch, for reasons I can't explain here. And many years ago he made an absolutely fantastic song called "The Art Of Being". Combining these two things with a wonderful film gave us the title of the track. It's a kind of tribute to a special friend and musician, from whom I've learned a lot.
As far as you know, are there any parts of the world where your music is particularly appreciated?
I honestly have no idea, but I really hope our music has spread evenly everywhere, because we're truly ready to go on an extensive tour once we can finally travel the world again without any issues!
Back when it was still possible to play live, did you perform any covers at your shows?
On a few occasions we played "Blood Witch" by the Melvins, and "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" a couple of times. In Germany we did a few Terje Rypdal covers, especially "Ambiguity", "Chaser", and more rarely "Ørnen" from the album "Chaser". But of course that doesn't happen often, most of the time we only play our own music.
Taking for granted that your music is a kind of union between a certain type of rock and jazz, which bands or artists have you been compared to most often? Do you think those comparisons are fair? Of course, the first thing that comes to mind listening to you is the electric period of Miles Davis or the riffs of Black Sabbath, but in your sound I also hear echoes of artists like Jim Hall and, indeed, Terje Rypdal.
I think we need to talk about music, and talking about music certainly goes beyond using musicians or other types of music as more or less explicit references. I also think it's hard for me to tell the difference between what's in my head and what's actually in my music. Some people have compared our stuff and the way we play to artists I'd never even heard of, or even to musicians I don't like at all, but that's the freedom of music. Your experience somehow becomes the real experience. What you hear and feel when listening to my music is often completely unrelated to what I meant when I composed and played it. Everyone puts things together in a completely different way. But all the artists you mentioned have been great sources of inspiration for me, as have other bands I listened to years ago that occasionally surface on an unconscious level. Let me give you an example: when I was a girl, I listened to Pearl Jam so much I literally wore out their records. They're almost never mentioned, but I really believe their music must have stayed deeply embedded in me, even though I don't listen to them like I used to.
Since you brought up the subject, what other artists were you listening to as a teenager? When did you start to realize that your future was going to involve having a guitar in your hands?
I've always listened to different genres, all sorts of things, from cool jazz (Chet Baker, Miles Davis, Art Farmer, Jim Hall, Bill Evans) to Norwegian free jazz (Paal Nilssen-Love, Håkon Kornstad) and various crossover works like Nils Petter Molvær's two albums “Khmer” and “Solid Ether”. But I also listened to Paul McCartney, Janet Jackson, Tom Waits, Neil Young, Jimi Hendrix, Ralph Towner, John Abercrombie, John Scofield, Sting, Richard Marx, Norwegian pop-rock acts like deLillos and Whopper, songwriters like Jan Eggum, jazz musicians like Bill Frisell and Bobo Stenson, and also Curtis Counce, Cannonball Adderley, Kenny Dorham and many others. It was my mother who introduced me to the guitar and taught me the first basics of the instrument.
There's an extraordinary avant-jazz scene in Norway and in the Scandinavian countries in general. I'm thinking of artists like Nils Petter Molvær, The Thing, Fire!, Fire! Orchestra, Supersilent, Elephant9, Wildbirds & Peacedrums, and there's also a great rock tradition, if I think of bands like Motorpsycho or The Skull Defekts. Some of them are also your labelmates on Rune Grammofon. What's your relationship with these artists like? Do you feel part of the same scene, or is it more a matter of mutual respect?
I should speak for myself, since I'm the youngest of the artists you've mentioned. Understandably, they have been and still are much more than just artists to admire, since they were already shaping the music scene long before I came into it. I do feel we're doing our own things, at the same time, but Norway is a small country and it's easy to end up in the same scenes and on the same labels. And sometimes even in the same band, since I've played in various projects with Mats Gustafsson, Paal Nilssen-Love, Ingebrigt Håker Flaten, Nils Petter Molvær, Torstein Lofthus and Ståle Storløkken. Bands like Supersilent shaped the music for an entire generation here in Norway, and I'm still hugely inspired by Elephant9 and Motorpsycho.
“Ekhidna” was your first solo work. Did you have to completely rethink your approach to songwriting compared to the HM3 albums? It must have been a huge challenge to compose music that wasn't meant for Ivar and Ellen.
Before “Ekhidna” I'd already had experience working on other commissioned projects: one that was never recorded, “21:12” in 2017 (with Ellen on bass), and “Tempest Revisited” (with Ivar on drums) in 2018 (which is coming out soon). When I started “Ekhidna”, I felt I had to try a different path for myself and for the music I carried inside me. I felt ready for it, especially because doing so didn't mean stepping away from the trio — they were still by my side. Naturally, my approach was a bit different: I felt that the space could be filled with something completely different, which would once again change my approach to performing music. I tried to look at the music in terms of working in layers, adding things where there's room and where it's really needed.
Do you think your work as a musician can help achieve the desired, rightful gender equity even in a field that has always been dominated by men, like guitar playing?
It would simply be fantastic to be able to help achieve that goal through my playing and composing.
What are your plans for the future?
The release of “Ding Dong. You're Dead” is now in its final stages, and as I mentioned earlier, we'll be playing a few dates in Norway in March. Right now I'm working on new music for another, different trio, and by the end of the year I'll be recording “Maternity Beat”, which I wrote for a 12-piece orchestra over the course of 2020. I can't wait, because I consider it one of the most expansive and detailed works I've made so far. I'm also about to release another solo record with a project that started in 2018, and of course I can't wait to see all these new projects come to life.
Thank you so much for your patience and availability.
Thank you for listening to us and for your passion for music.
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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Stefano Santoni, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.
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| All Of Them Witches (Rune Grammofon, 2013) | 6.5 | |
| Enfant Terrible (Rune Grammofon, 2014) | 7.5 | |
| Evil In Oslo (Rune Grammofon, 2016) | 7 | |
| Black Stabat Mater (Rune Grammofon, 2016) | 6.5 | |
| Smells Funny (Rune Grammofon, 2018) | 7.5 | |
| Ding Dong. You're Dead (Rune Grammofon, 2021) | 7 |