Altered Zones

MP3: Eric Copeland: "Krankendudel"

Nis Bysted, Nis Sigurdsson, Anders Jørgen Mogensen, and Andreas Hauer-Jensen have been quietly releasing albums and promoting shows in their hometown of Copenhagen since 2005. Escho, the label they founded together, takes its name from a made-up word that Bysted spraypainted on Sigurdsson's wall six years ago, essentially slang for "ultra," "extra," or "super" (examples: "I was escho mad." Or, "it was escho not cool when you puked all over my limited edition 88 Boadrum poncho.") The imprint began putting out records by Scandinavian bands that were popular exclusively in their native lands (my favorite unpronounceables include Gæoudji Sygnok and Düreforsög), but has since found international acclaim with releases from Iceage and Black Dice's Eric Copeland (both of which were Zoned In), and even earned a nod in Artforum's "Best of 2010" feature last year. During a brief stint in Denmark's capital back in June, while covering Iceage's DANISH PUNK FUCK YOU showcase at the Distortion Fest, I sat down with Anders Jørgen Mogensen for a chat. The label had just hosted a DIY pop-up show in an alleyway for "Sleepy" Doug Shaw of Gang Gang Dance's solo project, Highlife, and we spoke about throwing shows, the Copenhagen scene, and Escho's beginnings.

AZ: Tell me about how Escho began.

Anders: We were all musicians and in a strange phase creatively. There were so many of our friends who had recorded records that they couldn't put out. We were big fans of Gang Gang Dance, and we couldn't get any venues to put them on, so we just started a venue ourselves. After booking shows, one of our friends-- T.S. Høeg, who was a jazz musician, in his fifties-- said, "I got some money from the state to do a record. You can just have the record, use the funding I got, and put money into the company." He was actually part of the first punk generation of the late '70s.

We didn't have any distribution or anything. We rode around on our bikes, asking record shops if they wanted to sell our things. And they said "Yes," because even though it was only six years ago, things were different for record labels. That was the first time for us; it was very different then. [Then] a lot of small record companies started surfacing and people started putting out a lot of music, but people weren’t buying records anymore. With the Iceage seven-inches, we went around to stores and just gave them away.

[Iceage drummer Dan Kjær Nielsen outside of Escho office distributing records packaged in pizza boxes, 2011; photo by Nis Sigurdsson]

AZ: Why did people stop buying music?

Anders: Definitely because of the Internet. But another big problem in the new millennium is that you don't have to listen to music to have a social identity. From Elvis to the mid-nineties, you had to be interested in music for other people to see that you had that. Now you're competing with video games, skateboards, other things; it's not just about music anymore.

AZ: What's unique about Escho's identity as a label?

Anders: We always say that we're not a label, we just put out music [laughs]. We don't do any contracts. Even now we don't have anything written with anyone, because we believe in the gentleman agreement. When my band [KLoAK] released my its first record it was on a small label. We had to sign a big contract; it didn’t make any sense because they were in another world than we were. We really wanted to make things happen, rather than talk about what couldn't happen. It's also very important that the musicians themselves help. If you're doing this with us, it's because in five years you’ll have your own record label. It's like a master-apprentice relationship.

AZ: What's the matter with major labels right now?

Anders: That they're afraid they won’t make enough money, but also that the music scene that they were taught to master doesn't exist anymore. They're out of touch. One of the worst things in the world of bands and labels is when everyone agrees on everything-- that is plain stupid, and a weakness. We don't agree on anything. I think it's very important for people in bands never to agree on too much. I also think that artists have never earned a lot of money; that was only after WWII, when it all collapsed with the new millennium. It's only been fifty years that they've been earning a lot of money doing things like this. Artists have always been poor, and we're just getting back to that.

AZ: What made you start booking shows?

Anders: We ­were fans. There were so many bands we wanted to hear that we couldn't see anywhere. It was actually Gang Gang Dance, around the time God’s Money had been released. I was like, "What is this?!" We had to put it out. I sent emails to them for like two years. They didn't answer, but then suddenly wrote back and said, "We're coming to Copenhagen; we want you to put on a show." So Gang Gang went back and told all their friends what was going on in Copenhagen, and we started getting a lot of emails from-- what is it called-- "the Brooklyn scene" or something? Because they knew that there was a contact in Scandinavia.

[Brian DeGraw and "Sleepy" Doug Shaw of Gang Gang Dance with Anders Jørgen Mogensen at children's playground in Copenhagen, 2011; photo by Nis Sigurdsson]

AZ: Where did you throw these concerts?

Anders: We did them at places that weren't normally venues. A church or a theater-- anything we could get our hands on that was different from what people were used to. We were just tired of going to the same venues all the time. Also, we wanted to keep it cheap. We wanted it to cost fifty kroner, which is less than ten dollars. We just wanted to keep it very simple, very cheap, so everybody could go to it. It's hard, doing all these shows. We do everything ourselves-- we stand at the door, behind the bar, and even on-stage. None of that "I’m better than you," rock 'n' roll bullshit.

AZ: What's the Copenhagen scene like?

Anders: Even though Copenhagen is a small town, it's still a city. There's about a million-and-a-half people here, but it's where everything happens in the country. It's a big city, but it's a cliché because big cities are always clichés. I think bands are afraid. A lot of them just want to look cool in their leather jackets and little sunglasses and feel like they're empowered…

There is always more good music coming out from all over, but I don't find many bands interesting at all. You just hear David Bowie and Sonic Youth everywhere you go. I love David Bowie and I love Sonic Youth, but I can't stand it anymore, and it's crazy how many good songs they've written. Of course I knew that when I was fifteen, but that's not where I want to go now. It's very important for us to be an alternative to what is out there. And now that we have had some success, we have to do something different again. It's a dynamic thing to be alternative.

AZ: When did people start noticing that there was something different about Escho?

Anders: When we released six or seven records, and had been doing it for two years, people understood that there was something happening, and started taking us more seriously. We made a compilation of what was going on in Copenhagen, and got money from the state to do that. We put on a lot of concerts, and that's how we met Gang Gang Dance, and it was like magic. I think in New York, people started to think that Copenhagen was something that was interesting so they started checking it out. There's never been a band that’s "broke" from around here except for Aqua. [Laughs]. Also, when we put out the Iceage record out, people just went crazy! 300 sold out immediately. And then we did a second pressing, which we've never done before. I don't know what will happen now. Everything we wanted has already happened, so perhaps we'll close it down. [Laughs].