Questions & Answers

1. Who is Unni Wilhelmsen?

I sing what I can't say.
Maybe in music I find myself. I get to know me a little better for each song I write. Music plays a part in almost every aspect of my life and has done so from an early age. As a kid I wanted a piano most of all. For many years I avoided the guitar I was given. As a young illustrator, I was more technical skilled than expressive and exciting. At the age of twenty I let the guitar out of the closet. Through playing and singing I found genuine and personal places. I quit drawing and started writing my own songs. Writing, playing and listening to music bring me pleasure, challenge
and comfort.

Like a painter chooses her type of paint, English was the language of my lyrics from the start, even though I’m from Norway. Harmonies from the singer-/ songwriter tradition often inspire my compositions, but sometimes my guitar makes exciting turns of its own. Then I just try to follow, pick up the impulse and turn it into something true, beautiful or different. I guess I'm trying to capture all in one.
The creative universes of Suzanne Vega, Simon & Garfunkel, Joni Mitchell, Ani DiFranco, Shawn Colvin, Nick Drake, Tori Amos, Imogen Heap and many others have enchanted me for years. I feel like I’m part of a musical inheritance that recognizes itself in their music. I write about myself meeting other people. About people I meet. Of how they make me feel and react, or about their reaction to me. And a bunch of other stuff that comes in handy when I need to illustrate a feeling or a situation that puzzles me. I write about what I see. Music makes me look closer and seek other angles. Above all, music provides a place to be.

2. How did you get into music?

Growing up, music didn’t exactly play a prominent part in our family life. The magic of music as I discovered it, soon became a private adventure. I listened to Roger Whittaker at the age of 4, and I new every breath and phrase of the album without understanding the words. The resonance of his voice, the sound of his acoustic guitar, the finger-picking style, the secretive melancholic stories of his songs made a serious impact on me - it must have. I probably recognized something from that first encounter when I wore out my Simon & Garfunkel records later on, given to me by my ten year older sister. I was about twelve years old, and the harmonies of their landscape and the storytelling of the genre appealed to me like no other musical direction so far. Only the sound of a piano could compete with that revelation.

It was clear my parents wouldn’t get me a piano (we didn't have room for it), so I ended up with a guitar instead (for my 12th birthday). I never accepted it as a substitute for the piano I still wanted, but when I turned twenty and had lived by myself for a year, the guitar and I sort of came to terms with one another. I gave in and started playing for real. Rather late, all things concidered. I had been writing stuff for a while. Pieces of thoughts, comments or quotes from books I'd been reading. Stuff that gave me associations to be curious about. But the words seemed naked to me. Something was missing, even if some pieces surely could pass as poems. I'm often uncomfortable around them. Didn't want to do poems. So when I grew friendlier with my guitar, I could supply the words with music. I found that what I'd been writing had been song lyrics all along. It had something to do with jigsaw puzzle. Solving them became songs. I had become a songwriter, and I didn't know it. I just tried to find the best place I could to preserve memories and emotions. Internal heavens and hells I knew would fade but that practiclally reigned my days at the time. Songs and music became the best coffins I could find. Meanwhile, I sang covers in piano bars with the show men playing, just to see if I could. Just the singing, no guitar and never my own songs. I picked up on microphone techniques and got a clue on handling an audience. I grew more familiar with my voice by singing covers, trying to resemble the artist I was covering.

After a couple of years in a steady relationship with my guitar, I played my first gig at a club in Oslo. A small group of people had organized amateur nights once a week at a restaurant. I knew them from hanging around different clubs, taking chances during 'open mics' with various results, and in May 1995 I qualified for their flyer: Two other singer-/songwriters and I would get 30 minutes each, our names printed on a small poster. Original material only. A music journalist came by and he liked what he heard. Without letting me know, he recommended me to a major record company. Out of the blue they called me at home and invited me over. They wanted to hear some of my music. It was early summer 1995 and I was 24. I had three different part time jobs, rented a small studio apartment and spent my nights working, attending concerts, or hanging out in piano bars. I didn't know what I wanted to become, but I knew many occupations and jobs I did'nt want. I worked as a roulette croupier at night, a museum guard during the day, and I washed dishes in the Oslo main hospital kitchen in the afternoons. In addition I was a free lance illustrator. Now I was on my way to a place I hadn't even heard of: the A&R office (head of artist and reprtoire) at Polygram. I had taped a couple of my first songs at a friend’s house. I brought the cassette with me to the Record Company Castle. The King awaited me in his quarters, and I was Cinderella, wearing my Superman T-shirt and clogs. I was suspicious and not very optimistic.

After quietly listening to the tape (I was counting cars outside through the window), the King offered me a record contract and half the Kingdom. On the spot. Uh? I was skeptical and confused, and had to go home and consider for a while. He sent me a draft, and I tried to imagine and understand what changes this contract could bring to my life. I had never wanted fame. I wanted - or had - the music, but I hadn't formed a concrete wish or plan to 'become' anything. I liked my jobs. Did I want everyone to hear my songs? Were there any clauses in the deal that would make me unhappy or restrained in the future? Could I quit if I wanted to after signing the deal? Were these people the right ones to release and promote my type of music, the songs that was written just for me? Would I be able to keep my jobs at the same time as recording an album? if not, what would my economical situation be if the record didn’t sell? My life changed that day. After a doubtful while I signed. We recorded the album in the fall, laid plans during the winter, went to Miami for the cover shoot in January, and released the first single for sale and radio. I became the new Princess of female singer-/songwriters in Norway. The King, his Court and I released my debut album ‘To Whom It May Concern’ in February 1996. It was a success. Yep. The album was awarded 2 Norwegian Grammies, 'Best Female Of The Year' and 'Album Of The Year' 1996. And I had become a musician.

3. How strongly motivated are you in the advancement of your career?

I find myself doing things for music’s sake that I wouldn’t do otherwise. It starts with my personal relationship with music: Writing it, playing it and listening to it. I don’t think of music as work but as the source that makes it possible to live my life the way I do. I think of myself as one of the luckiest people in history, and I work hard to keep it that way. Much of what I do is actually hard work not even remotely connected what you would think musicians spend their days doing. Making music, recording records and playing concerts, yes. But mainly time flies releasing CD's, being exposed, doing interviews, traveling up to a hundred and twenty days a year, answering mail from all directions including listeners, receiving demos from hopeful young musicians that I haven't the capacity or interest to take on even if I run my own record company, dealing with economy, going through contracts and papers, learning more about my occupation every day, and taking care of business as professionally as I can. While trying to learn the piano. Making music and playing it, is my passion. What I get paid for is making my music available to others. As long as people want access to what I create, I can make a living out of it. I'm thankful to those who let me. It's not an easy thing.

To provide my 5th album with the best chances I could, I started my own record label, St. Cecilia Music. I have never worked harder. Taking control of the entire process myself was a real challenge. I had to raise enough money. I had to learn the technicalities and the formalities. I was the composer, the writer, the artist, the musician, the secretary, head of the record company, the accountant, layman lawyer, the art director, the management, the receptionist, and the performer. In addition to everything else I hadn’t thought of initially. I hired qualified help from a producer, a promotion company, local distributors, a photographer, my band at the time and more. As a team we planned and prepared a record release that competed successfully with every other release in Norway this year.

As an established artist I couldn’t risk any quality drop, visibly or soundwize. I sort of wrote in my label’s manifesto that I would not compromise from the standards of my four previous albums, all released on major labels, Polygram and Universal Music. I don’t see the point in doing everything myself just to be in control. It’s not that. It’s more about knowing me and my audience. Norway is a small country. I’ve got a good picture of it. I don’t believe I’ll find someone here significantly more capable than myself in taking care of my music and my future. I've chosen not to have a manager in Norway, but could do with some help on the outside. Many chances pass abroad due to lack of assistance. I had the big guys on my side once, preparing releases in America, England, Germany and a handful of other European countries. The whole process was wiped out when Universal Music bought Polygram and laid the promotors and involved executives off, two weeks before the international release. Shoot. But I have my hands full here, playing concerts as much as I can. I wish to stay happy with my work and my music. That means hangin' in there, learning and create new plans. But writing and playing is the best, best part.

4. Can you describe some of your greatest concert experiences?

I play concerts the whole year through. It’s my main source of income, and one of the favorite parts of my occupation. Playing intimate solo concerts with my guitars has sort of become my specialty. I try to establish as close a dialogue with my audience as I possibly can. There are a few places in Norway with just the right atmosphere, which I return to again and again. The crowd isn’t too large, and we start the concerts relatively early. People are interested and quiet, and show their respect through silence and attention. That makes me good at what I do. At these concerts there’s room for both humor and melancholic sad songs. I usually tell how the songs came about and give hints about the lyrics when the crowd allows it. I enjoy other artists doing the same. Norway is a country where a lot of people go out to dance, drink and gossip, regardlessly and at any occation. It's cheerful, but it influences certain concert formats and reduces the variety of music being played live. This peculiar Norwegian concert culture (or lack of it) - unseen in most other countries and well known to all traveling musicians here - has overrun many a singer-/songwriter. But it is slowly getting better, and some places I play are truly unique and everything's perfect. Norway can be a country with a very noisy crowd treating you like their stereo one place, and a totally devoted, quiet audience down the road.

Thinking of my concert memories as a listener, one of the highlights I remember is Richard Thompson in Rockefeller Concert Hall, Oslo, a few years back. He brought Danny Thompson on double bass and it was just the two of them on stage. He talked and laughed with the audience between songs, and it brought on a remarkable atmosphere. Suzanne Vega and Ani DiFranco is capable of the same. I’ve seen them live several times, with and without bands. Coldplay at Oslo Spectrum and Simon & Garfunkel's reunion concert. Both rememberable, in different ways.

Playing with bands is important and exciting. I need to go on at least one band tour every year. Playing with others brings changes and new elements to my songs. I enjoy the social aspects of traveling with a group of musicians for weeks. We can present my music in different ways, so that the audiences get something else than they get when I play solo. Drums and electric guitars allow us to take on larger crowds and turn the tempo up, so that the concept becomes different. That effect is necessary whenever a new album is out. We try to recreate the album live, so that people get the right impression of it.

I recently went to see Norway’s best rock band, Dum Dum Boys at Rockefeller. I think it’s the greatest rock’n’roll concert I’ve ever been to. Playing Rockefeller Music Hall in my hometown Oslo with a full band and a sold out house, is one of the things I dreamt of before I ever got into music for real. I’ll never forget the first time I did just that.

5. What would be your advice to other new artists?

In young new artists, I often spot ambitions that aren’t founded on music itself. Not even based upon who they really are as individuals. People write me asking how they can become a pop star fast, make lots of money, get fan mail, and attend glamorous parties. And how can they release a CD and get a hit single on the radio before Christmas? Most people feel attracted to such illusions. None of us seem to be able to handle our lives and careers without problems, once we’ve reached the status of being ‘celebrities’. It concerns me the way media present Idol competitions and create new ‘star’s every season. In my collection of albums that I care for, there are very few artists or musicians that doesn’t write their own material. If your strength doesn’t lie in your own music or your voice or technique as a musician, what then is your strength and personality as an artist? Do the things I mentioned define your image, or are your appearance designed by people around you, based on other effects, like looks? Britney Spears is among the most well known artists today, but what’s genuine about her? Can she compare to artists like Alanis Morisette, Bono, Björk, Tori Amos, Eminem, Beatles, Ani DiFranco, Coldplay, Bruce Springsteen, Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan? I don’t think so. Her stardom doesn’t come from herself as a person. It comes from the creative team around her, the enormous promotion budgets, the massive media coverage, the glamorous touched up pictures, the spectacular dancing shows and million dollar music videos. She plays her roll well, but others can play the same part. And I don’t think her life is filled with freedom, creativity, inspiration and doing what she likes best. In fact I’ve got a hunch it’s not.

I think the phenomenon ‘Britney’ could have been many different girls. She hasn’t got a particular voice, style or face. She’s not a musician or a vocalist with integrity in my opinion. But she’s a superstar. Integrity is one of the most important virtues of this business if you want to stay in it and be respected. Only Bob Dylan can be Bob Dylan. Only you can be you. So who are you? What’s special about you? Will it last whatever it is you are on the verge of getting famous for? Is this the way you want people to know you? Are you staging yourself? Will the audience get tired of you because there weren’t enough of the real you to care for in the long run? People might need Britney Spears and stars her size. But not musically, I believe. Britney is about something else. We need glossy stars to dream of and identify with. And if you as an artist want to be that kind of object, go ahead. But then people like me most likely wont accept you as a musician. I’m audience too. I’m a faithful listener if I really start caring for someone’s music. And you don’t have to write your own songs. But if you don’t, you still have to infuse something of your own into the material. If you can’t get the audience to care for you as an individual, they will let you down after a while. And you might end up tired, frustrated, disappointed, lonely and broke. As of course, all of us in this business risk constantly. Comes with the territory. So watch out and make wise decisions. And ask people you trust about all the things I haven’t mentioned. Pay attention, aim to learn as much as you can, and don’t make the same mistakes twice. Good luck!

6. What music instruments do you use and why?

One of the most wonderful things I own is my Martin Acoustic guitar. It’s a 6-string Limited Edition Dreadnought guitar that I bought brand new in ’96 (twice wrecked during flights). I bought it for the recording of my second album. It has taken a lot of beating through our extensive traveling, but it still looks and sounds remarkable. I play it through a hand made jack cable and a Retrospec Tube Direct Juice Box I found in New York. Being such a young instrument, the dept, tone and resonance is outstanding. Every one of my hired guitarists and sound engineers has expressed their wish to be mentioned in my will for that particular guitar. Over my dead body! :) Meanwhile, I’ll continue to have my love affair with that Martin, out from where most of my songs have sprung. Steal it or break it, and I’ll come looking for you.

My first steel string guitar, is an old Framus half acoustic. The pick-ups are hardly working, but I played it on my very first concert. It sounds half dead now, and probably always have, but I wrote some of my first songs on it. It’s in my living room collecting dust, looking jazzy, with a signed cover of Suzanne Vega’s first album stuck in between the strings. The Framus belongs there with the other guitars in the family.

The Tacoma Papoose Short Scale is my smallest and least played acoustic guitar. It’s tuned A to A with a short neck. It looks like a junior guitar, so I hand painted it sky blue. The resonance hole isn’t in the middle, but up by the ‘corner’ shaped like a drop of water. Compared to my Martin, it sounds a little bright and ukulel-ish, but it’s a charming and fairly expensive instrument. I just haven’t figured out what to do with it yet, besides playing one single song I wrote on it long ago.

My Parker Acoustic Fly confuses my audience with its electric looks and acoustic sound. I bought it in the states while recording an album there. I use it as a back up for my Martin, but in my opinion it’s not at all a strumming guitar. The working field I have assigned it to is mainly finger picking and slow songs in alternative tunings. I switch between the Parker and the Martin so that I don’t have to retune all the time, as I use several alternative tunings during my concerts. The Parker has a ‘natural’ chorus of its own, and I feel that it’s more useful on the slower songs. It’s very agreeable to play and it keeps its tuning wonderfully when putting capos in high places. To use it as a rhythm guitar doesn’t work for me, because of the graphite neck, which make a plastic sound when the strings touch the frets. I need the organic feeling to play acoustic rhythm guitar. Otherwise I get uncomfortable and nervous and my beat starts to suck.

My first electric guitar lights up my living room. It’s a Gretsch Silver Jet, shining like a diamond with its sealing of silvery glitter. Playing electric guitars is not what I’ve spent most time doing. I’ve had an ongoing technical problem with my Trace Elliott Velocette amp for years, so getting familiar with the guitar has been difficult. I feel it’s obvious every time I pick it up. I’ve brought it on tours, and it looks awesome on stage, but in return it’s a rather heavy guitar. It has never sounded good through my amp, so I don’t really know what it can deliver. Hopes are high however. I’ve got a brand new amp in the house: The tiny that’s-my-hand-luggage Vox Pathfinder.

My latest and most exciting acquisition is the Line6 Variax digital guitar. This electric guitar has 50 pre-programmed variations of sound imitations of legendary electric guitars in a small chip or whatever it is. Check it out yourselves. Me, I think it might be just a tad much to keep track of, figuring out which sounds and nuances I like the best. It sounds a little too large sometimes, at least in combination with my digital tap delay. But so far I’ve found a handful of sounds and positions that works for me, and I’ve just started to try them out on stage. I think the different options of style and sound this guitar has, can be useful for breaking up my solo concert set. It has found a match in the Pathfinder so far, and I have the feeling we’ll spend a great deal of time together.

Not long ago, I got an old, black Rönisch piano (a hundred years old) in my kitchen. The room has great reconance and I\'m in love with the instrument. I've already made the first piano song.

In just weeks, my new Custom Morgan acoustic signature model will arrive from the builders. I've designed the details myself, and look forward to try this black cut-away guitar on stage. I\'ll put in pictures of my instruments in a while.

My uncle died just 3 weeks ago. Before he died, he gave me his Höffner 6-string half acoustic (ca 1964). The last time I saw him, he gave me his old Player 40 guitar amp, which he used together with the Höffner back in the 60's when he played in a band. I have gotten the guitar repaired and fixed, and keep it in my living room next to the amp, which needs a new chord. They will both be part of my new kitchen set up. With my Mac G4 laptop, Pro Tools software, Digidesign 002 interface, DynAudio studio monitors, Baby Bottle Blue & Neumann microphones, I sort of have a project studio in my kitchen. I don\'t use it much yet, because I haven\'t learnt enough, and some processes need sketch book technologies rather than complicated state of the art equipment. So when I\'m sketching or just making reference recordings, I use Garageband 2.0.1 and a small M-Audio sound card. Fits a guitar and a mic, or stereo signal in/out. But I can\'t wait until I can handle the Pro Tools recording system fluidly. Then I can start to play around with my ideas for real.

7. Explain your song writing process; how does a song come about for you?

Songs come in different ways and shapes. Some can take years to finish, others just come right out without the need for any changes at all. I usually write the words and the music separately. I take notes whenever I think of something interesting or odd, or something that strike me as ‘truer’ than how I usually think of the subject. A sudden original sentence or revelation on a well-known topic, a memory from something I had completely forgotten, a feeling I can’t get rid of. I often write about myself in encounters with others. What do other people make me feel and think? Impressions, sadness, excitement, losses, infatuations, disappointments, happiness, bitterness, anger, thankfulness. I think I get to know myself a little better diving into such issues, peeling off the layers of my life and myself as I get older. I keep my songs as an archive of things I don’t want to forget, or things I need to get out of my head.

If I get an idea for something to write about, or a chorus line for a song, I always write it down or record it on a Dictaphone. My ideas are very precious to me. I think it’s important to take care of them even if I don’t feel like playing with them right away. I never know if the ideas will continue to come, so I have a drawer and several books full of writings that have popped up in my head over the years. I’ve noticed that the same good idea doesn’t show up twice. If I don’t write it down and I forget it, it’s gone. The music I make is a result of time spent with my guitars. I never come up with the melody first. The guitar’s the boss. It decides what chords I’m allowed to play with my small hands, and it keeps a lot of secrets from me. I’ve learnt to play by myself, so it’s a lot of chords, techniques and music theory concerning the guitar that I don’t know. Sometimes I just put my fingers new places on the neck to hear what happens. I usually end up with a line of chords that fit well together, creating a special atmosphere that makes me want to continue playing it over and over. That way, the guitar riff gets to be the first established part of a new song. Everything else depends on those harmonies. Then I hum something around or on top of the chords, trying to define a melody theme. At the same time I try to get the feeling of what this song might be about. Sometimes I write the lyrics together with the melody. Sometimes I look through old notes and find something that I’ve written earlier that really goes well with the atmosphere or the phrasing. Either way I have to fit the words in, and I twist and turn and rephrase everything until I have no problem with any of it. Until it says what I want to say to myself. Until it gives me the right feeling. The melody is the last to fall into place. I construct it like a bridge across the river of harmonies. Every tone is picked to stay in contrast or relationship with every note in the chord accompanying it. Some songs get to be up-tempo with choruses that rise from the verse. Some are without refrains or chorus lines, just living their own quite life. The quiet ones thrill me the most. They always have.

H I S T O R Y