In a cottage outside Sweden
“Clap your hands if you want more!” I stood stunned at what was transpiring before my very eyes. “Come On!” screamed Pelle Almqvist as he pandered the New York City audience. I was drenched in sweat, and my senses were violated. It was at that moment, that I developed a special connection with The Hives. I don’t know what was more seducing, their resemblance to The Stones in the early part of the 1960s or their intensity. The answer was unclear but what I did know was that these guys wouldn’t dare slip in a ballad on me.
It has been close to six years since that night at Hammerstein Ballroom. I had lost track of the band since then. They seemed to fade into the oblivion of the hyped rock ensembles surrounding millennium. Spoiled and mistreated. But like bumping into an old romance at the airport it was a friend who recently made the move from Capitol to Interscope Records, which brought The Hives back front and center. This garage rock audible assault of explosive nostalgia was about to cross paths with a very different person that was squashed against the barricade in 2002.
The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway oozed with traffic and there I was stuck in it. The only thing to break up the monotony was the occasional bird flying out of a passing car window; that was, until the phone rang.
“That is why I choose to live on the countryside. I don’t have to put up with that sort of stuff,” snickers drummer Chris Dangerous as he references the serenity of his Swedish villa two hours outside of Stockholm. “Let’s put it this way, if I lived in America I would probably have an apartment in New York where I would spend most of my time. I would go to LA to party for a week, at least few times a year, and then I would have a cabin in Colorado so I could go skiing. I always like to relax,” he says.
Life has turned sweet for the Hives since fulfilling their three-album obligation with the Swedish punk label Burning Heart. Their lineup has remained intact but the ideology of the fold is changing.
“The original plan was to make three punk rock records that we could look back on when we were 50 and be proud of,” those being Barely Legal (1997), Veni Vidi Vicious (2002), and Tyrannosaurus Hives (2004). “We didn’t think anyone would ever buy more than twenty copies of each record. We just thought that when we were 50 the kids would find them an enjoy them,” explains Dangerous before he delivers the antithesis. “But then we got popular and it fucked that all up. So when we decided to make this forth record we had to deviate from the original plan started when we were seventeen, the plan to make three records. It was time to do something different, something new.”
That forth record would be entitled The Black and White Album, which was released in October of 2007, and echoed the octane brilliance of the playfully arrogant band we have come to love. The recording is still forceful, still filled with vengeance, and still littered with punk.