The career could’ve ended with ‘Call on Me’. Eric Prydz name could’ve been synonymous with one single hit record, together with an colorful and mocked work-out-girl-video that honestly was pretty thin. But the career didn’t end. It just went underground. And got stronger. Even in the most stubborn, hard flirted dance music circles Eric Prydz is – or rather his aliases Pryda, Sheridan and Cirez D – utterly honored. He’s forgiven for making a track that got too big to fit into the underground idealism. Now he’s made another one.
Grodan Cocktail Club, Östermalm, Stockholm (Sweden) – Friday 2 March 2007
Between two sweaty backs and the guy gang that oozes a testosterone infested military service reunion, a winter cap glimpses every now and then. That particular cap has been through much. It was there when hundreds of Russians, tipsy on vodka, shouted “We don’t need no education!” inside an over exited club a few weeks ago. It was there when one of the most influential DJ and radio profiles around, BBC:s Pete Tong, humbly thanked him for the track ‘Proper Education’. The track that Tong was first to receive and that got him to dominate last summer’s dance floors.
Eric Prydz lifts his right hand and grabs around, with his thumb and index finger, a small control knob marked “bass”. By touching the little button two centimeters two the right, he gets the horde in front of him to totally and utterly lose control. They scream and bounce, and the smell of an unventilated locker room for hockey players gets more evident. Now they know. Now they know that the man with the cap, that’s all warm from the heat that’s inside of here, is more than a well known producer name. When the tracks have long gone faded away and become a massive web of utter music, weaved by somebody who knows exactly what he’s doing and when it’s supposed to be done, they know that he’s also one of the worlds absolute best DJ’s.
The track that was based on Steve Winwood’s old hit ‘Valerie’ was number one on England’s single chart 2004 for five weeks. That makes ‘Call On Me’ one of the most internationally successful Swedish tracks ever. Leif Pagrotsky (Swedish Social-Democratic Politian) have emptied drinks with rockbands for far more modest accomplishments. But then the dance music scene is also different from the pop music scene. Few producers wants to appear. Most of them sit in their basement studios day and night and the only time they are seen is when the lights from a raging stroboscope shine on them a late club night.
It’s almost as one could think that the man from Täby outside of Stockholm, that’s currently mixing this summers underground hit with his own tasteful piece ‘Aftermath’, would’ve wanted to pull down his hat over his face and gone completely underground the months after ‘ Call On Me’. Even if Eric Prydz wants it or not, his name will always be associated with that became a lightly clothed outcry for two and a half years ago.
The gladiator-like ex-military service guys that more than soon will take off their slimmed t-shirts probably came to the overcrowded dance floor because they also wanted to scream “We don’t need no education!”, but what they got was electronic dance music in outermost world class. Pumping rhythmic basses, thick as Greenland’s glaciers and breaks where the buildup is reversed, contrary to all logic.
Grand Hotel, Blasieholmen, Stockholm (Sweden) – Wednesday 20 December 2006
The cap is the same one, but the mood is worse. This day Eric Prydz spent on doing something that he usually doesn’t and isn’t very fond of. Since early morning he’s been sitting in Grand Hotel’s foyer and given interviews concerning his latest single release in his own name – ‘Proper Education’. He’s now hungry and saunters together with his press agent to the hotel’s dining room. It’s filled with suits on business trips. Eric Prydz monthly salary would probably cover the costs of renting half the restaurant for a week, but after a short discussion about getting a table, the head waiter is still being everything but accommodating. We have to settle with what the roomservice has to offer and exactly 20 minutes later the door to Eric Prydz’ room opens and a young woman in the hotel’s uniform puts food on the table, consisting of Swedish meatballs and mashed potatoes, accomplished with lingonberry preserve and salad. Two bites later we start the interview.
Do you remember how it was to be fourteen and DJ on Täbys youth recreation centre?
-Yes, I used to hang around there all the time. They had something called fridays disco and I was in the DJ-group. Every week we went to buy records on the municipality’s expense. It was very, very funny. We even arranged raves.
Where?
-On the centre.
When was this?
-Maybe 1989. It was exactly when house music came through in England with all it’s glory. I remember when I heard that kind of music for the first time. A friend had a big brother that was a lot older than us. One time he came home from Ibiza with a mixtape he got from a DJ over there. Oh how we listened to that tape. Again and again. “Damn, this sounds cool”, we thought. It was then I decided what I wanted to do with my life. From that day I knew. I would do music and become a DJ.
Do you remember the first tune you made?
-Yes, I was nine and wrote a piece on the piano we had at home. Since then I’ve always made tunes. When I was little I had a lot of music in my head, but I didn’t really know how to get it out. When I got the Amiga 500 it all came out. At that time there wasn’t any way to burn CDs so when there was a party going on and I wanted to play my tracks I simply brought my computer with me. I made my own intro’s with strings to put between the tracks so that I would avoid beatmixing. A thing from that time got really huge at the Bergtorpsskolan in Täby. It was a cover on a track by 2 Live Crew. ‘Fuck Lars Nissar!’ it was called and it was about our teacher. The sequel was practically the same track but it was about our principal.
When I was little I also used to make music on a Amiga 500. Everyone who did that used to have all sorts of aliases that sounded pretty cool to a fourteen year old. I was Effecto Master. Did you have one of those names?
-No, I never was a part of that scene that went on copyparty’s and sent demo discs amongst each other. I actually only made the music to sit at home and listen to it myself and to show it to mom.
What did she think about your music then?
-She thought that it was fun that I made music. She always loved music, she always loved to go out and dance. When I was little there was always a disco at our place. It was her favorite thing to do. My first clubbing experience was at my home right in my livingroom. I probably got my music gene from her.
What did you and your mom play back then?
-A lot of ABBA and smarmy German music. Boney M and that sort of stuff.
Did you get to DJ?
-No, no way. I wasn’t even allowed to touch the turntable. It was taboo. I broke everything I touched when I was little.
Why was that?
-I always wanted to examine how everything was built. I remember having one of those “The little electrician”-box when I was little. At home we had a damaged wall lamp. In “The little electrician” there was a small bell that was supposed to be connected to a 1,5 volts battery. I connected that bell to the wall lamp. It was at Christmas eve. All the relatives where at our place and I thought: “Damn this bell’s gonna ring loudly!” I connected it to the socket and the entire house just turned off and the fuse box exploded. After that I couldn’t play with “The little electrician”.
Are you into electronics today?
-My trademark is that my music sounds very good sound-wise. I’m known for doing that. It sounds better on the dance floor than any other production. Most other productions sounds pretty powerless in comparison. That is of course deliberately made. It should just explode. You can have a track that’s just garbage, but being well produced people will still think: “Damn that track was fat”. To answer your question: yes, I’m a bit of an audiophile. But I’m not that kind of guy that says “Oh you have the new X13… blablabla”. I don’t care about stuff like that.
When did you get your first record deal?
-Around 1999 I lived together with a friend called Thomas Larsson. He’d just opened the Boutique Sportif (“legendary” streetwear/clothing shop in southern Stockholm) shop together with his brother. One day the brittish DJ Mark Seven came to the shop to sell his own T-shirt brand. At that time I was at home making a lot of demotapes. Thomas loved them and used to always play my music in his shop. Mark Seven asked instantly what track was on the speakers. “Oh, that’s my friend Eric. He’s at home playing around a little bit”, Thomas said. Shortly after a guy called me and started talking, in English, about my music, label signing and stuff like that. I didn’t understand anything. But it all ended with me signing a contract with EMI that was according to me incredible. I had to make a list of stuff that I wanted to have in my dream studio. After that I went to a music equipment shop and just collected everything. And I got 380.000 SEK (~$56.280) in advance.
How did it feel to hold your first record in your hands?
-I couldn’t believe it was true. It’s still the biggest thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so fucking cool. It was in a club where Mark Seven played. I suddenly started to recognize the sounds in the track that was on. “No way” I thought. “This is my tune!”. I approach the DJ booth and look what’s on the turntable. There’s my first record. Everything that has happened after that moment is just a bonus.
How was the musical climate in Stockholm around this time?
-Oh, there was a lot of things. I played in the Rainbowroom at Sturecompagniet every other saturday back then. It was fantastic. To be involved and listen to house music in Stockholm around that time was a little bit like being a member of a secret club. Today it’s everywhere.
How does it feel to go to Sture today?
-I don’t go there anymore.
Why’s that?
-They rebuilt the Rainbowroom into womens toilets. They’ll have to demolish the toilets and rebuild the room again. Then I’ll come back.
What club does have the world’s best sound equipment?
Fabric in London is really good. But the best is Sven Väth’s club Cocoon in Frankfurt. In Fabric there’s basscontrols in the floor that are pointed upwards. But Cocoon has a sound that’s clear and neat. It’s so clear, it’s like sitting in the studio.
Are you afraid of damaging your hearing?
-I am actually. So far I’ve only got a small hissing. But I went and did a hearing test a while ago and I actually had a hearing that’s above average. So I’ve survived pretty much this far. On the other hand, after some gigs when I haven’t worn ear protection there’s shriek afterwards. And sometimes it’ll last. Then I usually get mental. I have a lot of friends that has got tinnitus. Real tinnitus, the kind where you need to sleep with the TV on and always have an annoying buzz in the background.
Is that the DJs nightmare?
-My nightmare is to become totally deaf. What the hell should I do then? Maybe I’ll have to get good at playing videogames or something.
Have you seen It’s all gone Pete Tong, the movie about a DJ on Ibiza that goes deaf?
-Yeah, yeah.
Did you picture yourself in it?
-No, are you nuts? It’s a real B-movie that one. It’s making fun of the whole DJ-myth, but I like it. It’s a good B-movie.
Wasn’t it any truth in the film?
-No. I must think… Truth or truth. Ibiza is…
Doesn’t it give a good picture of the male DJ-superstar? He who has all the drugs, money and women?
-Yes, that’s how it is in real life as well. On other holiday spots there might be a three meter billboard with a Sony Ericsson ad. On Ibiza it’s a three meter billboard with posters portraying me. The entire island is a whole big club. Of course the DJ’s the superstar then.
How do you feel in that environment?
-I haven’t really brought myself into that really sort of. It’s awesome that everything goes so well. But my goal was just to release records. The fame isn’t anything for me. I don’t do that much visual press. I like the way of being anonymous. Sure, everybody recognizes my name. They do that when I order a cab or when the postman arrives. Or if you pay with credit cards. But I still feel anonymous.
But the Ibiza-myth, is it true?
-What’s the myth?
That it isn’t possible to live there in the long run.
-There’s a lot of drugs. There’s partying round the clock. You can ask people whose eyes are in every direction what they did tonight and hear: “Yeah, first we went on an after party at Space, then we went to an after after party at DC10, and now we’re here at Bora Bora.” They’ve been up two and a half 24-hour periods and been partying constantly. If you want to you can party until you die on Ibiza. There’s always an after party to the after party.
How do you survive?
-I don’t take any drugs. I’ve never done that. I will never do that.
Does that seem strange to people?
-There isn’t anybody that cares if you take drugs or not. But if people close to me are using I can get angry. I’ve always been against that. But it isn’t up to me to tell people what to do. I’m not anybody’s dad. I drink beer. A shot sometime. And I use moist snuff. Does anybody want to smoke pot or take coke they can do that. As long as they aren’t at my place it’s alright.
Do you play better or worse if you’re drunk?
-That’s a good question. Ehm, hard to say. When I first started to DJ it was always festive. Like “On friday I’m gonna play!”. The good thing about drinking when you’re playing is that you get into the same vibe as the rest of the people on the club and makes you read the mood of the crowd a lot better. You’re a guest at the same time as you’re playing. In that case it’s all good. The things that are negative is that if you play three times a week I wouldn’t recommend getting drunk every time. Then I would’ve been an alcoholic a long time ago. I never drink when I’m playing nowadays. Only water, one bottled beer at most. And that’s just to be nice when they’ve arranged a whole table with different spirits. Apparently I have a totally bizarre rider that my agent thought up. I always ask “who are these for?”. “They’re for you” they usually answer and look uncertain. “You have three different applejuices and three different vodkas…”. Haha. “One Heineken, please” is my usual response.
Why has your agent written such a rider?
-I don’t know. I’ve told him to change it. Maybe he thinks that it looks cool.
How do you get treated when you’re out playing?
-I get treated as a superstar. I get picked up in a nice car, sometimes there’s armed bodyguards with it. Always the nicest suite in the nicest hotels. Yes, I get treated very well. I am some sort of star, even if it feels strange to say that. I’m not some kind of Robert DeNiro, but in the clubbing world… I’m something like… Eh, it feels a bit strange. I’m really quite geeky. I just wanna make music. I don’t do it to make money or to get attention.
But still we’re here at Grand Hotel in Stockholm.
-I usually stay at Berns. I like the rooms there more. Grand is more baroque or what the hell it’s called. It feels a little bit like being at grandma’s. The thing is that they’ve redone the room service menu at Berns. All they have now is fucking thai food! I don’t want to eat that every morning, dinner and night. Since I live in London I always get to eat junkfood. But here at Grand Hotel they have something called Swedish classics. It’s really good and that’s why I stay here.
Are you afraid of the fame?
-I don’t have a need for publicity.
But since nobody knows how you look there’s a lot of people who thinks that you are the guy who work out with the girls in the ‘Call On Me’-video.
-Yeah, I know. It’s so comfortable. There’s a feminist forum that totally bashed the video. They had cut out a frame of the guy in the video and written “This is that fucking Eric Prydz who stands there and humps!”. It’s so fun! They are welcome to think like that. And it’s fun for the guy in the video who just walks around being Prydz every day.
I found a C-essay that’s called ‘Humping blondes – a new educational tool?’ It’s about ‘Call On Me’. Two women who studies media-pedagogy in Luleå tried to show the video to a group of high-school kids in Luleå.
-Mhm.
They have after the video started a discussion in the classes about how women are portrayed in the media. What are your thoughts on that?
-I think it’s pretty fun. That it can be used for something like that. There’s a lot of people who have opinions about that video, but you ought to think about it. It’s just a music video. It hasn’t anything to do with sexism, it’s just very funny. If you’re complaining about music videos you should start with all the hiphop-videos. I didn’t think it was bad at all.
What did you think the first time you saw it?
-Yeah, I thought like this: “Oh shit, now we gotta do a new video because this isn’t any good”. But later on the record label managed to persuade me that all the TV-channels would go nuts when they got it. They told me to stop being so creddy and let them do their thing. I surrendered and the video was a great success. Even if it isn’t something I stand for. It went a little crazy. Especially if you consider the ringtone commercials where you were supposed to text “Buttocks one” or “Buttocks two” to get pictures from my music video to your mobile. That Jamba commercial was everywhere. When I got back from a gig in some German city I used to turn on the TV and hear “Die nueen klingentone! Schinka eins!”
Don’t you think that it’s paradoxal that you don’t want to show yourself, just sit in the studio and do music, not doing any interview and keep a low profile in general. And then a video is released with your name on it that goes through everything. Everybody’s seen it, everybody’s got an opinion about it. Don’t you feel that your personality get’s split?
-I just laughed at it. The thing about my name being connected to the video, well, that’s another story.
Was it a rough time after the ‘Call On Me’ video?
-It was, but I didn’t think it was tough because of people not considering me creddy. But I was a little bit confused after all that stuff that just got in my face. I lost myself for a while. I lost my inspiration. I felt that I needed to start all over again. Actually if I hadn’t, after everything that happened, started my new labels Mouseville and Pryda, we wouldn’t be sitting here talking to each other as we do right now.
What would’ve happened instead?
-If you have one of those “dancehits” you don’t get to play at the best clubs. Maybe I’d get to DJ at Tegelbruket in Täby Centrum. Career-wise, ‘Call On Me’ has been more of a problem rather than another resource. That I get to play as much as I do now is about me doing all the other music that I’ve done.
Now that you’ve fought so much to get away from what ‘ Call On Me’ did to you, how can you then do almost the same thing again and choose to sample one of the most overplayed tracks when you release a new single under your real name?
-But that wasn’t meant to be a single. I made it to be a DJ tool in my sets. I actually did it for myself. But after all that megahype it got last summer, I felt that I had to release it. And so it became Eric Prydz single number two.
But aren’t you afraid of losing cred when you release such a commercial track?
-I think that it’s as intended as everything else I’ve done over the last years. But I’m surprised how well everything went for it. It isn’t a tune. It’s a element. It isn’t a musical piece. It’s just a DJ tool. Sure, I can be happy with the fact that I made a nice bassline, but it isn’t something as me from a musicians perspective is proud over.
Why did it get to be that Pink Floyd-sample?
-I had played it somewhere in France and was sitting in a cab in England. Then I heard that phrase on the radio that I’ve been hearing ever since I was little: “We don’t need no education”. I instantly got the entire tune in my head. I tried to figure out how I was gonna get it into my DJ sets. It was gonna start off euphoric full of feeling and then the sample would come in and just take over. It got so damn incredible reactions last summer and it was of course most fun when nobody had heard it before. This was a track that got people to piss their pants the first time they heard it. And it worked everywhere. Spain, Germany, England, Belgium. Everybody recognizes that phrase.
Do you always come up with your tracks that fast, in your head?
-No, not at all. I have one track, ‘Aftermath’, that I worked with for months. It started off as a small demo idea. I tried it in all my gigs and after every gig it came nearer completion. I discovered faults and fixed them. I think I changed it around about 30 times. First time I played on Space in Ibiza I was really nervous. And I got there late. The ferry was late so I came to the club when my DJ time was over. But luckily I got some time from the DJ that was supposed to play after me. That night I tore the roof of the place! “Now it’s done” I thought. It was 15 minutes long then.
Didn’t you ever feel pressure of doing a new ‘Call On Me’?
-No, never.
But was there pressure?
-Yeah, god yeah. But that just ran off me. I didn’t give a shit about the labels. They only wanted to make money. Okay, they have the rights to my name, but I could release under other names.
How did it go when ‘Call On Me’ got released? Rumor has it that it was more of a joke from your side in the beginning.
-I’ve heard so many incredible stories about that tune. I made in two and a half hours. ‘Spooks’ is the name of another track I’ve done. It’s the same track, only that ‘Call On Me’ has that sample. It became an underground hit very quickly in Stockholm and really was megasuperduper popular. After that a 8 month struggle arrived with clearing the ‘Valerie’ sample. Steve Winwood was on the war path with his label so in the end he had to come and re –sing the entire vocal. By this time there was a massive hype around the track. I think there was about 60 bootlegs of it before it got released. When it finally got released it was on number 1 on the England chart.
That is as big as ABBA.
-Yeah, I know.
Agnetha Fältskog (member of ABBA) was extremely afraid of flying. How’s your fear of flying?
-It’s all fucked up. I’ve decided to give it all up. I flew 17 times or something last year. I just got all stressed about it. It made me stop working as a person. I just felt like shit all the time. If I had to catch a flight I started to feel like shit weeks ahead. At the moment I travel around in trains. I’ll have to solve that later in the future somehow.
Has it been like that since you were little?
-I didn’t like flying when I was little either. But I didn’t really understand what it was. I couldn’t eat on the plane, I just wanted it to land.
But still you flew 17 times last year.
-Yeah, and in a period of five weeks.
Do you take the boat to Ibiza?
-Yes, there’s a catamaran that goes from Barcelona.
Travelling by boat is dangerous. Trains aswell.
-I know. It’s 30 times more dangerous to sit two people in a room like this talking.
What is it that you are afraid of?
-I’m not afraid that the plane will crash. It isn’t that. It’s the confinement. I wouldn’t have any problem flying if I knew that I anytime could jump out of the plane with a parachute on my back.
Where do you think this fears coming from?
-Flying is an unnatural thing. You feel very helpless up there. It’s hard to point out. It’s in my backbone. Just as you would be frightened if a lion would run through the door here at Grand Hotel. You would shit your pants without thinking.
Eric Prydz has said that he will release an album for years now, but according to the newly launched website www.ericprydz.com it will be released in this summer. There’s also two releases coming up on the Pryda and Mouseville imprints.
Interview in Sex Magazine.
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