We’re heading into the last two shows of the tour with Teitur, and it’s been something special. There’s a kind of magic in watching people lean into a language they don’t fully understand—but still feel the intention and atmosphere underneath it. That’s what connects. There’s a core message there, deeper than words, and the audience picks up on it.
The rooms have been full. Standing ovations.This tells us, that It means something not only to us. This isn’t music that shouts for your attention—but once people are there, they feel it, maybe something they didn't knew they were missing. It resonates. No need to force it down anyone’s throat. That feels good.
When you stay true to something that has a core, without compromising, people get it—when they’re finally in the room with it. It might feel like a wall when we’re pushing through social media and marketing noise, but face to face, it lands. Instantly.
It also says something powerful that Teitur chooses to sing in Faroese. That takes guts. It’s a language Danes have heard of but don’t really know anymore. There’s a quiet provocation in that—maybe you should get curious again. Especially now, when there’s political tension in the Arctic, it hits different. It’s a reminder: we share a kingdom, but we also have our own roots. Our own language. Our own music traditions. Teitur is digging into that, and we back it by digging into our own musical core.
We’re heading to the Faroe Islands in September, and we’re curious how the locals will receive our take on their traditional kvæði. These old folk songs carry a lot of meaning. Teitur sings them in Faroese—but we’ve layered chords, moods, rhythms, atmospheres on top. Usually it’s a single melody and pulse. We’ve reimagined it. Maybe some will think we went too far? Put too much emotion in?
But we did it because we wanted to make something new together. There’s a shared spirit in how we create—open, playful, respectful, never afraid to dive deep.
The tones and rhythms reflect how we hear music. It’s our sound, our interpretation. Just like if I play African rhythms, you’ll still hear Victor from Vanløse in there. Everything flows through the lives we’ve lived.
The big hope? That someone, maybe especially a younger Faroese listener, will be inspired to rediscover these old songs. If this collaboration with Teitur sparks more curiosity about their own traditions, we’ll be proud.
Picture from our performance at Gimle in Roskilde.