My name is Pål Moddi Knutsen, twenty-three winters as I write this. I come from an island called Senja in the far north of Norway, where I have borrowed my mother’s accordion, stolen a Russian display mandolin, and own an ocean blue guitar with two broken frets, with which I make and play music that’s always a little larger in my head than what ends up on tape.

You can’t blame me for being rushed. Some of these songs are as old as from back in 2005, when I still hadn’t even picked up the accordion, or taught myself guitar chords. Others are just a few months old, and I’m a little more into chords now.

One thing I’ve always found hard about my songs, is to try and make those tiny, fragile tunes sound huge and frightening, like when small fish gather close to each other in thousands in order to form an enormous ball to scare off sharks. At Parkteatret in Oslo, May 2009, I felt like I had my fellow fish: this was the first concert I’ve played with something close to a full band. I hope you enjoy the sound as much as I did that night, knowing that is has probably moved on a bit since then as well. Thank you for lending me your time!

Copying, lending and broadcasting of these songs is highly appreciated.