SOMETHING STRANGE happens as soon as I sit down with Röyksopp. Torbjørn Brundtland, the blond half of the Norwegian dance duo, jumps up, pulls a tiny camcorder from his pocket and asks if it’s OK to film.
Except he films only me and cuts his partner, Svein Berge, out of the picture. This, I learn later, is not unusual. Röyksopp like to record everything that happens around them, but rarely themselves.
The pair’s reticence to be caught on camera — they don’t appear in their own videos and are seen only as small, shadowy figures on the cover of their latest album, The Understanding — has nothing to do with being shy. Since emerging from Bergen three years ago, Röyksopp have deliberately shrouded themselves in mystery. They give few interviews and when they can be persuaded to talk, getting a straight answer from either is almost impossible. Röyksopp would rather muddle an issue with metaphors or veer off at bizarre tangents than reveal their real selves. Often, what they say doesn’t even make sense.
“We don’t strive to be secretive exactly,” insists Berge. “We’re more evasive, protective, vague perhaps. And we try not to lie. We want to be honest, but not Eric Clapton honest, so we hide behind our Norwegian mystique, but the truth is, there’s nothing to hide.” So why hide at all? “Because,” adds Brundtland, “there’s no need for people to know us. Think of it like a couple living through their kids. Our songs are our kids, we’re proud of them and we want to show them off, but we don’t want the attention ourselves.”
In a pop climate where revealing all has become the norm, Röyksopp’s approach is refreshing, if not particularly helpful. It certainly hasn’t hurt album sales — Melody A.M. sold more than a million copies, half of them in Britain, which embraced the band months before their native Norway. Röyksopp would rather talk about music, although you can pin them down on some facts from their past. They met as children in their home town of Tromso, became best friends and developed an interest in electronic music while all around them were listening to rock or were into Norway’s thriving death metal scene. They bought keyboards and practised by playing Kraftwerk covers. The pair were still at school when they released their first record, but split up when Brundtland left Tromsø. A few years later, both living in Bergen, they met up and formed Röyksopp, recorded their debut on a shoestring budget and secured a deal with the London dance label Wall of Sound.
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What isn’t in question is Melody A.M.’s contribution to the tired chill-out scene. With its cinematic, classically influenced, beats-based sound and quirky humour, the album brought chill-out back into fashion and inspired a small army of imitators. Its singles were picked up for umpteen TV ads, everyone from Beck to the Streets to Coldplay asked for a Röyksopp remix, and the album became 2002’s biggest sleeper hit, taking almost a year to top the UK charts.
The Understanding isn’t a radically different record, but is just as lovely. Subtle melodies and an emotional warmth underpin everything from eerie, ambient house and sleazy, Prince-style funk to multi-layered, John Barry-esque instrumentals.
“It’s not Melody A.M. Part 2,” insists Berge, although that’s no doubt what critics will call it. “I admit it’s not a new sound either. It’s more of a step sideways. We didn’t plan for that. We couldn’t even if we tried. The truth is we have no idea how we make our own music. We go into the studio, press a few buttons, do that silly laugh of ours and wait for something to happen.” The only real surprise is that alongside various guest vocalists, Berge and Brundtland take a lot of the lead vocals themselves. Meanwhile, their friend Erland Oye, from fellow Norwegian outfit Kings of Convenience — who fronted two of the last album’s singles — has not been invited back.
“We haven’t fallen out with Erland,” says Berge. “It’s just that no one wants to stay in the same underwear for years. We’re not calling Erland pants, but we had to do some things differently.” With success has come a bigger studio in Bergen and a better diet. Röyksopp claimed to have eaten only mashed potato while making Melody A.M. when they ran out of money.
Röyksopp have also been rewarded with the keys to Tromso, a government gift for being Norway’s most successful pop export since A-Ha. Plus, they have famous fans lining up to work with them. Everyone from stadium rock bands to country and western stars have been in touch, much to Röyksopp’s amusement.
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“We ask them: ‘Why us?’ and laugh,” says Berge, “but we don’t often say yes.” The pair did say yes to Peter Gabriel, however, who invited them down to his Real World Studios in Bath.
“We wandered around Peter’s lovely place for hours,” recalls Berge. “Then I was attacked by one of his swans. I’m serious, it ran over and mauled my knee. I’ll show you the scar.” “I’ll show you the video,” butts in Brundtland. “I got it all on camera. Not Svein, the swan. He has his beak open so wide you can see his intestines. That’s much more interesting than Svein’s knee.”