A Vinyl Hunt and the Spirit of Gärdet: Träd, Gräs och Stenar’s Legendary Live LP

Helsinki, 14. august 2011.

The Helsinki heat clung to me like a second skin. The first tendrils of a Saturday migraine were already coiling behind my eyes as I trudged up Arkadiankatu toward Levykauppa X. This record shop, a supposed mecca for vinyl enthusiasts, promised both new and used treasures, and I was on a mission: something obscure, something Finnish. The walk stretched longer than I’d anticipated, each step heavier under the midday sun. By the time I bounded up the shop’s staircase, I realized my downtown appointment was a scant 30 minutes away. Saatana! I shot a pleading glance at my partner, vowing to be quick. She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. I almost believed myself, though.

Kunne ikke laste lydfilen.

The shop was a vinyl jungle—rows of crates brimming with records, each sleeve whispering promises of discovery. But the clock was a merciless taskmaster, and my head throbbed with every passing second. Overwhelmed, I abandoned my hunt for Finnish rarities and grabbed a few new arrivals stacked near the counter. Among them: a reissue of Träd, Gräs och Stenar’s legendary live set from the Gärdet Festival, Stockholm, June 12–14, 1970.

Released by Sweden’s Subliminal Sounds, this double LP is a collector’s dream: limited to 500 copies, pressed on vibrant splash-colored vinyl, packed with liner notes and unreleased material. It’s more than a record—it’s a time capsule, capturing a pivotal moment in Sweden’s cultural history.

The Gärdet Festival was a defiant, non-profit gathering, born in the rebellious spirit of Monterey Pop and Woodstock. Organized against fierce opposition from conservative politicians, police crackdowns, and jittery park officials, it was Sweden’s first true alternative music festival—a middle finger to commercialized music scenes and establishment control. Joakim Skogsberg, armed with a Neumann mic and a Nagra tape recorder, perched at the stage’s edge that rainy Friday, preserving the raw energy of the moment.

Träd, Gräs och Stenar’s performance pulses with the era’s upheaval: the rise of hippie counterculture, the defiant voice of a progressive, unpolished music scene. The band’s sound—gritty, hypnotic, and unapologetically free—channels the festival’s ethos, railing against authority and the sanitized mainstream. This LP immortalizes that spirit, every crackle and drone a testament to a generation pushing back.

The real gem, though, is the bonus track, Låt oss tänka ett par dagar, exclusive to this vinyl edition. Recorded not at Gärdet but in a remote cabin in Hertsjö, outside Bollnäs, during the winter of 1969–70, it sprawls across the entire fourth side of the LP. This 21-minute odyssey of chanting horns, primal shouts, and relentless repetition feels like a psychedelic ritual—a Swedish freakout that’s part tribal ceremony, part cosmic invocation. It’s not for the faint-hearted, but for those willing to surrender to its trance, it’s a journey into the heart of the era’s radical soul.

Son Volt at Down On The Farm Festival

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Down On The Farm, 1997: alt-country was peaking, the lineup stacked with names that defined the era. Son Volt, Chuck Prophet, 16 Horsepower—and, at the very top, Nanci Griffith bidding farewell to the road. What unfolded over those few days in the Norwegian countryside was nothing short of mythic: goosebump-inducing performances, rain-soaked finales, and the kind of moments that carve themselves into memory forever.

1997. The alternative country scene was at full throttle, and with 16 Horsepower, Chuck Prophet, and Son Volt on the bill, my expectations for that year’s Down On The Farm festival were sky-high. Topping the lineup was none other than the folkabilly queen, Nanci Griffith. She had already announced her plans to step away from touring, making this my first—and only—chance to witness the Grammy-winning Texan live. Griffith closed the festival in striking fashion, beneath a brooding evening sky. Cowboys young and old hid their misty eyes beneath wide brims as she delivered a wrenching version of Tecumseh Valley. As if scripted, the first raindrops began to fall, giving the hard-bitten ranch hands cover for their brave tears. Expectations had been met. It was unforgettable—a fitting farewell to both Nanci and the festival itself.

But let’s rewind to Son Volt, who took the stage earlier that day. A swaggering set from Chuck Prophet had fired up both the crowd and the band—still carrying the desert-rock fire he lit in the ’80s with Green on Red—and the field was primed. Early in the set it struck me: frontman Jay Farrar’s almost shy, withdrawn presence on stage was in sharp contrast to the gravity of his voice and the strength of his songwriting. I was hooked from the start, but the opening of Tear Stained Eye was the moment when time stopped.

"Seeing traces of the stars that came before. Hitting the pavement still asking for more. When the hours don’t move along, worn out wood and familiar songs. To hear your voice is not enough, it’s more than a shame."

Everything locked into place, and goosebumps raced from the back of my neck to the tips of my fingers. These are the kinds of moments that etch musical memories in stone.

Several sets from that summer were captured by NRK, later broadcast on P1’s Rockegalla. Here’s the first part of the Son Volt recording, featuring:

• Catching On
• Loose String
• Caryatid Easy
• Tear Stained Eye

The sound fidelity, of course, doesn’t match today’s standards—it’s an old cassette tape, after all—but I’m convinced there’s still an audience eager to revisit those moments, at least until NRK decides to give the tapes a proper reissue.

Kristiansand Kunst Kommando

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After the legendary Kristiansand band Munch called it quits at the end of 1991, vocalist John Ivar Mykland went on to form the performance collective Kristiansand Kunst Kommando. Think late-’80s goth aesthetics, a whiff of performance art, eyes turned toward Eastern Europe – and maybe, just maybe, a nod to Laibach?

There isn’t a lot of information floating around about the group, and I couldn’t even tell you when (or if) they actually called it a day. They’re one of those bands that slipped through the cracks, slowly fading from memory. Sadly, that’s also true for Munch—a band that really deserved better than to be filed away under “forgotten Norwegian underground.”

The track Cybercamels turned up on Rock Furore’s very first compilation CD, back when the magazine was still a fresh, hungry voice in the Norwegian music press. As far as I know, the song never made it onto any other format, which makes it a little time capsule from that era—dusty, obscure, and all the more precious for it.

If anyone out there remembers Kristiansand Kunst Kommando—or even saw them live—I’d love to hear your stories. Drop me a line!

Miles Davis Septet - Molde 1984

"…and now, ladies and gentlemen, before I introduce this midnight mass—or, more accurately, the one-hour-past-midnight miracle… Oh, and by the way, God Himself is chilling in the gentlemen’s locker room!"

Festival MC Knut Borge delivered an intro so unforgettable it could’ve been etched in neon. With a mischievous grin and perfect timing, he set the stage ablaze.

Kunne ikke laste lydfilen. Sjekk filstien eller nettleserstøtte.

The air was thick with tension before Borge’s quip. The crowd—nearly 2,000 strong—had been simmering with nervous anticipation, their excitement teetering on the edge of frustration. They’d shown up hours earlier, expecting an afternoon gig, only to be met with delays and uncertainty. The buzz of negative vibes was palpable. But in a flash, Borge’s words flipped the script. The room erupted into laughter, the tension shattered, and a wave of giddy expectation swept through the crowd. It was nearly 1 a.m., and every single soul was perched on the edge of their seat, ready for the Miles Davis Septet to take the stage.

The backstory? Pure chaos. Miles, the enigmatic jazz titan, had been waylaid in Paris, doubled over with a vicious bout of food poisoning. (Guitarist John Scofield later spilled the tea: Miles, being Miles, scoffed at the doctor’s orders, chugged way more medication than advised, and promptly passed out cold.) The result? A missed flight and a fading dream of seeing the legend perform in Molde.

But the headaches didn’t stop there. The festival organizers were juggling two crises: Miles’ precarious health and a sound system on borrowed time. The rented PA rig was due to be dismantled and shipped to Lakselv the next morning. Even if Miles somehow made it to Norway, there was no guarantee there’d be speakers for him to play through.

So, what do you do when the odds are stacked against you? You sweat buckets, you curse under your breath, and then you roll the dice. The organizers took a leap of faith, chartering a plane from Danish Sterling Airlines in a desperate bid to get Miles to Molde. Meanwhile, in a plot twist straight out of a movie, the Norwegian Ministry of Defence got roped in. Yes, Defence Minister Anders C. Sjaastad himself greenlit the rerouting of a C-130 Hercules transport plane from Gardermoen to keep the sound system in Molde for one more night. (Who knew jazz could require military-grade logistics?)

Then, at long last, the words that sent shivers through the crowd: “Miles is here. The concert is ON.”

Seven hours late, the man himself strode onto the stage, flanked by a killer lineup: guitarist John Scofield, bassist Darryl Jones, saxophonist Bob Berg, drummer Al Foster, and percussionist Steve Thornton. What followed was nothing short of transcendent—a performance dubbed the “midnight mass” or the “miracle concert.” Some diehard fans even argue it was one of the final, truly magical shows of Miles Davis’ career. Whatever you call it, this night cemented its place as a glittering chapter in Norwegian jazz history.

This hour-long recording, salvaged from a weathered cassette tape, is a time capsule of that electric night. What’s crystal clear, and what’s lost to the hiss of analog? That’s for you to discover. Here’s the full setlist that lit up Idrettens Hus:

• Speak - That's What Happened
• New Blues [Star People]
• What It Is
• It Gets Better
• Something on Your Mind
• Time After Time
• Hopscotch
• Freaky Deaky
• Jean Pierre
• Decoy
• Something on Your Mind
• Lake Geneva