‘Alone at night. Large church room. Lots of air. Stone. Wood. Glass. Quietness. Stillness. The dead and the alive. Surroundedness.
‘Existentialistic matters spinning. Peaceful state of mind. The dialectic equilibrium of complete stillness and deeper thoughts on contra-resistance on local and global levels. Fighting (y)our stupidities. Contra.
‘I have never ever before gotten myself into such an unusual setting for a recording project. And yet, so simple. So naked. So peaceful. Alone at night. As we all are.
‘I borrowed the keys to the beautiful church of Gustafsberg, from my neighbor Rune.
‘I went there at midnight. Set up my recording gear. Old school DAT machine, tube pre-amps and two AKG 414s in an extreme stereo set-up, close to the horn. The horn of choice. The contrabass sax. The monstrous sax-machine “Tubax” made by the German engineer Benedikt Eppelsheim at the turn of the century. I sat down in the first row of benches. Breathing. Preparing. Contemplating. The saxophone positioned in the very middle of the church, close to the altar. More than 6 hours straight of low-end sax noise and many breaks later:  the sun set. At around 7 am… I was done. I was alone the whole night. And yet, not all alone. Some things were going on in that church. In that room. I kid you not. Never audible. But strongly felt. Whatever presence of the old or new gods - old and new dreams - it effected the music and my mind. I let it happen. I let it all flow.
‘Alone at night. There is nothing to explain.’

‘These seriously playful/playfully serious gentlemen share the same vibe: a strong sense of speed and importance, paired with a kind of childlike curiosity for what lies behind the next bend. Alternating between baritone saxophone, flutophone, slide flute, clarinet and bass clarinet, phrases are repeated and elaborated, questions, answers, rhetoric, ornamentation, criticism, and free flow, all this and more can coexist when it comes from the same source.
There is a lot of commotion in this music, a lot of pressing and panting. But there are also feelings in the brutality, a brutal finesse that leads us from one sonic landscape to another. Not like a hike, more like a run through forests and scrubs, down steep slopes and up through narrow gorges…’