Who is warming up the stage for Fever Ray?
You may not be entirely sure who you will be seeing onstage before Fever Ray’s set come Monday and Tuesday nights at Webster Hall. But here I am to shed some light on the artist that Karin Dreijer Andersson herself handpicked to open the Fever Ray tour, Vuk.
I discovered Vuk a few months back randomly on MySpace Music, and after some research on the elusive Fever Ray tour discovered that Emily Cheeger aka Vuk was in fact supporting the tour! As a Finnish-American artist, Vuk’s avant-garde musical melting pot of worldly influences will be a great introduction to Fever Ray’s ethereal live show. Enjoy our in-depth interview with Emily which forced me think about and break down music to it’s most simplistic form and logic. Music for the brain and for the ears, quite refreshing! Be sure to get to Webster Hall early for this rare solo set!
MP3: Vuk – The Arm of Spirits or zShare
> As a Finnish –American artist, is it hard for you to decide which route to take a song as far as language?
EC: No, not really. I do things pretty intuitively and writing in English has always come naturally, probably because many of the artists that have inspired me have written their songs in English. I tend to think of Finnish as a language that works really well for me in poetry and prose, but less so in songs. That’s just a personal preference. I’ve always had the advantage of being fully bilingual, giving me the freedom to choose without losing anything in expressive capacity as far as vocabulary is concerned.
> On your tour with Fever Ray you will be playing a solo set. How did this pairing come about and how do you anticipate being onstage without your band?
EC: The touring opportunity felt like synchronicity to be honest. I feel very, very lucky. I had been listening to the Fever Ray album all spring and felt strongly that she was a kindred spirit. We had never met but I had singled her out in my mind as a new artist I’d like to play a show with perhaps more than anyone else. I think we approach music in a similar way. It’s as if we inhabit different parts of the same subconscious dream landscape. Last spring, out of the blue there was an email from Fever Ray’s manager in my inbox offering me the opening slot for the tour. I think Karin heard my music through her band member and producer, Van Rivers, who was given my album by a friend in the industry.
The first years I spent making music under the name “Vuk” were as a one-woman band so I’ve done plenty of playing alone in the past. Back then I had a sampler, scrap metal instruments and what I did was a whole lot more unhinged and noisy with lots of vocal acrobatics. I really love my band, we have great chemistry and bring out the best in one another but I’m excited by the challenge of having to win over a large audience all on my own. Maybe I’ll get to bring my band next time!
I want to create something original and honest in which the various elements influencing the music sort of melt together beyond direct references into something greater than the sum of its parts.
> What can we expect from your show?
EC: It’s going to be me, my portable pump organ and an autoharp with some (I hope) judiciously used effects. I opted against including any backing tracks, even if it means ditching the more obviously rhythmic elements and deeper bass frequencies of the songs, because I think the music will come across best if it’s performed completely live.
> Scandinavian artists have become so important to art/indie-pop music today with some of my favorite artists at the forefront. Why do you think this crossover has been so successful into American culture?
EC: Well, I think a lot of the Scandinavian artists that have gotten attention in the States are Swedish and they have a long tradition of making popular music in a very professional, fastidious way. They’re well-organized about it, and think their musical concepts through very carefully. They are real music fans and are good at promotion. The important thing is that they have a strong sense of the times and aren’t afraid to make true pop music that’s catchy, sophisticated and up-to-date. At the same time it has an outsider twist that gives their music an additional element you don’t always find in the US, Jenny Wilson and Fever Ray are good examples of this. From Finland, the stuff I hear talked about most is the experimental bands on the Fonal label. Their music is a good deal more DIY, but again there are elements there, a certain organic texture, a particular kind of soulfulness which may or may not spring from a common “Nordic” mentality that people find interesting. I’m not sure any of this applies to what I do because I’m a mutt who never really lived anywhere for more than a few years at a time.

> In your bio you are quoted as saying “Rules are made to be broken” and “liking to break habits when you get too comfortable.” What are some rules you feel restrain the musicians of our time?
EC: I think there are a lot of bands surfacing now that operate on a level that defies many of the rules I try to break (so I’m not alone) but mainly I’m just interested in making music that goes beyond conventional genre, song structure, instrumentation, harmony, and that doesn’t amount to meandering, self-indulgent noise. I enjoy structure but hate predictability and music that feels like it panders to some kind of artificial image or genre expectation – at least when it’s my own music.
Why try to do something that’s been done before, probably much better than you’re doing it? I want to create something original and honest in which the various elements influencing the music sort of melt together beyond direct references into something greater than the sum of its parts. It helps to look for inspiration in unexpected places, surprise myself and create a sense of moving forward as an artist or I get bored with what I’m doing. I like to re-imagine my songs from time to time and pull myself out of my comfort zone. Sort of like what I’m doing on this tour.
I [pay] close attention to what goes on in the world around me…but they rarely make it into my songs. If there’s one part of my life that I can keep free from contamination by all the shit that goes on, I might as well protect that.
> What are some habits in your music that tend to plague you?
EC: “Plague” is a strong word! Actually, I feel like I’m just coming into myself as a songwriter now and am pretty happy with where my music is heading. One could say my songs have a tendency to be dark and moody and sometimes I wish I could take the whole process a little more lightly instead of writing each song as if it were my last. It slows me down quite a bit. But there are good sides to that, too. It raises the bar.
> Your first record Exile! was released in 2003 and your latest album The Plains was released this year. In what ways do you feel you’ve grown since Exile?
EC: “Exile!” feels like a different lifetime by now. Between those two albums I went through some musical experiences that re-organized everything I knew about music. I’ve been making music all my life in one way or another but have been stubbornly intuitive from the start, perhaps to a fault. What I’ve learned since “Exile!” is to pick rhythm, melody and harmony apart in a way that gives me a better idea of how to get from point”A” to point “Z”. I’ve learned to delegate some of the playing to other people! I’ve gotten more of a handle on structure and nuance, arrangement and instrumentation. I think that’s progressed since the recording of “The Plains” in 2007 too. (It took two years to get it released because my original record label flaked out.) I’m really looking forward to making my next album, hopefully early next year.
> There have been some major changes in the world since then, what are some (if any) historical events that have affected your music?
EC: My music relates most directly to my personal experiences so I wouldn’t draw any direct lines between my music and specific events. Of course one can’t help but be affected by the fact that we live in turbulent, apocalyptic times. One can only operate from the perspective of one’s own time. I feel sickened by the general apathy towards the destruction of the environment and the bottomless well of greed and violence that feeds it – man’s stunning capacity for cruelty and selfishness. I try to make a point of paying close attention to what goes on in the world around me and I do write down my thoughts about these things, but they rarely make it into my songs. If there’s one part of my life that I can keep free from contamination by all the shit that goes on, I might as well protect that. I’d rather write an essay on a historical event or have a meaningful discussion about it, than write a song about it.
Sometimes I wish I could take the whole process a little more lightly instead of writing each song as if it were my last.
> Are you familiar with the 1981 Hungarian animated film Vuk about the cunning fox?
EC: I’m aware of it’s existence but haven’t seen the actual film. That Vuk isn’t related to my artist name and I hadn’t heard of the film when I started using it. I stole the name from a little half-Serbian boy. It’s a common Serbo-Croatian man’s name.

> I hear a little bit of Portishead in the song Flint in the Pines, then baroque-style folk music in others. Can you name a few of the artists that have inspired your work?
EC: Hm, I’ve never considered Portishead to be a significant influence on what I do, though I do enjoy their music. Maybe it’s the theremins in that song? I also don’t think of my music as “folk.” That definition carries some connotations that I don’t really relate to. It’s an easy label to fall back on if an artist is using a lot of acoustic instrumentation, but I’ve never had a “folk ethos”. I think of my music more or less as experimental rock music. I grew up listening obsessively to Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, Einstürzende Neubauten, PJ Harvey, Björk, Diamanda Galás, Prokofjev’s ballets, Debussy’s piano pieces, classical opera and Bulgarian choir music.
I come from a family of classical musicians and the things I was exposed to culturally when I was young were mostly not in the realm of popular culture. I had to discover it on my own, which opened up a whole new world for me. I think I was desperately looking for an alternative to the prim, pious world of concert halls where you’re supposed to take everything really seriously and keep your mouth shut in the presence of artistic genius. With the music that initially inspired me, there was always an element of breaking the mold, of rebellion, of looking for something new and creating an all-encompassing experience that explores new kinds of instrumentation. Lyrically I’ve been inspired by Modernist authors such as Nabokov, Joyce, Bulgakov and Beckett. Their willingness to re-mold language and grammar in order to speak more directly in the language of the mind really hits home for me. Incidentally one influence Fever Ray and I seem to have in common is the film “Dead Man,” by Jim Jarmusch.
> If you could choose your dream tour of favorite artists on one stage, who would you choose (alive or dead)?
EC: Oh dear. How can I take this and run without sounding totally ridiculous and confusing? There is so much music I love to death out there. Screw it, here goes nothin’. It would have to be a festival with different bands playing in different spaces at different times of the day, à la ATP.
I’d invite a special ensemble to open the evening performing a kind of cantata with Antony Hegarty, Diamanda Galás, Farid el Atrache, Fairouz, Roy Orbison, Blind Willie Johnson, accompanied by an Egyptian musical orchestra and a late-80’s Bad Seeds. My friend Larkin Grimm, swinging from a trapeze, could alternately breathe fire over the whole scene and sing plaintive arias in a shimmery gown. Björk would perform in a natural cave accompanied by a Kodo drum ensemble, a large gamelan orchestra and the Bulgarian State Radio and Television Women’s Choir with ceiling projections by Pippilotti Rist. On a seashore in the dead of night Dälek, Circle and Cleaning Women would perform, followed by a wild drunken dance party accompanied by the Kocani Orkestar and a terrific ramshackle blues band from Finland called Cosmo Jones Beat Machine. The Velvet Underground and a Fatherfucker-era Peaches would play separately in hot, dark, sticky rooms of their own.
On the seashore in the wee hours, a band from Brooklyn called Preacher and The Knife would lead a percussion performance with Chris Corsano. Then everyone could pass out and be lulled to sleep by Fong Naam, which is a Siamese court music ensemble. The next day, after being woken up to a bright new day by Final Fantasy and Fleet Foxes, the entire man-made part of the festival site would be destroyed by Einstürzende Neubauten in a most glorious and noisy fashion. Then we’d move on to the next town and repeat the whole circus. Sure, why not?