Louder AAA
Major Parkinson haven’t had it easy since the release of their fifth album in 2022. But the free-thinking Norwegians are back with Valesa – Chapter II: Viva The Apocalypse! and a renewed sense of gratitude for the little joys in life.
In Oslo in 2022, shortly after the release of Major Parkinson’s fifth album, Valesa – Chapter I: Velvet Prison, a celebration nearly turned into tragedy. Singer Jon Ivar Kollbotn suffered a heart attack onstage. “It was close,” he reflects with emotion. “My heart stopped for a couple of seconds.”
He went into a coma and, after waking up in hospital, faced a lengthy period of recovery and rehabilitation. It’s this life-changing experience that makes Major Parkinson’s new record, Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse! feel all the more triumphant.
A kaleidoscopic cocktail with clever and often surreal lyrics, it finds the five-piece poking, prodding and twisting the theme of showbiz to mould something that’s both dark and warped yet uplifting and luminous. The 80s synth vibe that shone bright on Chapter I is dialled down for a more direct, live feel.
“It wasn’t a long process like Valesa I, which was two to three years,” keyboardist Lars Christian Bjørknes says. “This one was done within six months, so it’s less polished, and more immediate and raw.”
“And that fits with the theme on the album,” Kollbotn adds.
The accompanying blurb says the record explores the “dark magnetism of showbiz, American mythologies, and the hallucinatory line between utopia and delusion” – and Kollbotn explains by talking about an Elvis Presley-type character represented in the album.
“It’s like an idea of the social mobilities you’re travelling through, from the top to the bottom. You have an Elvis as a symbol of the death of the American dream. Part one of the Valesa saga is the Christmas comeback 1968 Elvis. We’ve reached 1976 Elvis; we’re waiting for George Nichopoulos, the doctor, to come and give him the pills, and we’ll have the bathroom moment soon. Does this make any sense?”
Well, you have to run with it and enjoy the ride. Karma Supernova is the album’s proggiest trip, snaking through nine minutes of jagged rhythms and free-roaming riffs. ‘Eye for an eye for an iPhone/For a Bluetooth, tooth for a tooth,’ Kollbotn sings in his distinctively low voice. Maybelline opens with dreamy vocals from Claudia Cox before dissolving into a creepy metal motif, while lead track Viva The Apocalypse is an intoxicating romp.
“This album is about a lot of the stuff that’s going on with the world today,” Kollbotn says. “It’s not only tragic, but there’s a certain element of comedy to everything. It’s so insane what’s happening today – it’s very hard to grasp.”
He references the prevalence of eyes gazing into screens (“The level of stupid is so collective, and it’s so miserable”) as well as the state of America, and the illusion of grandeur.” He adds: “When you deal with the apocalypse you should make it fun.”
Major Parkinson – completed these days by Eivind Gammersvik (bass), Øystein Bech-Eriksen (guitar) and Sondre Veland (drums/percussion) – have come a long way since forming more than 20 years ago. Their genesis can be traced back to an attic space of a theatre where Kollbotn worked, which housed costumes and hats – perhaps foreshadowing the cinematic atmosphere that pervades much of the band’s work.
The upturn came when Tool producer and engineer Sylvia Massy spotted them at a gig in Stavanger and whisked them to the US to record their self-titled debut. Released in 2008, Major Parkinson cultivated a unique mix of styles slathered in a unique, jaunty art-rock vibe – and it was even named as one of the top 500 albums from the 2000s by Uncut magazine.
Their superb fourth album, 2017’s Blackbox, flirted with darker, electronic vibes, while Valesa – Chapter I, with its 17 tracks and pop leanings, continued the evolution. Given the band’s sometimes bouncy-ball nature, it’s little surprise that Cardiacs are referred to as an inspiration; the late Tim Smith attended their London gig in 2018.
“We’re not trying to tailor this to anybody,” Bjørknes says of the band’s music, which always retains accessibility even during the oddball moments. “This is the way it turned out. We have to just please ourselves, and then everything else is a bonus.”
Back to that night in Oslo in 2022. Major Parkinson had been touring the UK prior to their return to Norway, and Kollbotn had felt like something was not right, but assumed it was muscular. “It was a very traumatic experience – I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone,” he says with a dash of humour. “I didn’t know what was about to happen. When I woke up at the hospital I had to start a new life; I had to work every day with my health. I had to learn how to walk again.”
Seeing Jon actually die for a minute or so has shaped the way the band is today. But it’s hard to pinpoint how
It didn’t end there; he suffered after-effects too. “There was so much anxiety, because your body has a kind of memory of the pain that happened onstage – it’s the worst kind of pain you can imagine. It’s kind of like being burnt, or somebody’s like cutting off your testicles with a rusty knife or something. In the month after the hospital my body reminded me of this pain. I woke up in the middle of the night screaming because I remembered the pain.”
With rehab and therapy, he was able to gradually recover, but there was something more positive on the horizon. “When I woke up in the hospital they told me I was going to be a father: I had a daughter the summer after it.”
It took a year before Major Parkinson could properly get back working on new material. “It’s kind of a miracle that we’re actually releasing an album so quickly after Valesa I,” Bjørknes says.
To further compound things, Bjørknes’ other band, Moron Police, lost drummer Thore Pettersen in 2022 following a car accident. The keyboardist admits he struggles to sum up how the last three years have been. “It’s been a very strange process,” he says. “We had the experience of seeing Jon actually die for a minute or so backstage. I’m not sure how to put it into words; it’s shaped the way the band is today, and it’s shaped the music. But it’s hard to pinpoint how.”
With life and death thrust into sharp focus, that night in Oslo taught them to savour the small moments in life even more. “You kind of realise how lucky you are,” Bjørknes says. “That we actually met each other and are able to do the stuff that we’re doing – there’s such a small chance of that even happening.”
“I was jolted back to life to watch America go to hell,” Kollbotn adds with a smile. “But there’s so much more to life; it’s the good stuff. Also you have this,” he says as he reaches for a bag of nappies in a nod to his new life as a father. “We have very good diapers in Norway.”
Valesa – Chapter II: Viva The Apocalypse is out now.
