Rockedrømmen Chapter 01
A little boy in love with music
An English retelling from Kjell Moberg's manuscript.
It started on Grandfather’s old turntable, with Neil Diamond, Wenche Myhre and Dizzie Tunes, and me banging my head against the wall in time. The dream was never small: not just to be Elvis, but world domination from the stage.
It started on Grandfather’s old turntable, with Neil Diamond, Wenche Myhre and Dizzie Tunes, and me banging my head against the wall in time. Elvis, the Beatles and the Stones filled the house, and the sounds of the seventies came after. I was a little boy who could not sit still when there was music playing.
My uncle handed me the harder stuff: Thin Lizzy, the Sex Pistols. I stole it from the cellar stairs while he and his mates loaded up for the weekend, bottles clinking and the music loud and good. A neighbour’s Bob Marley put a reggae beat in my blood that is still there.
And the dream was never small. Not just to be Elvis, but world domination from the stage: a rock’n’roll free-fall with no brakes, from here to eternity and back. Rock never felt like work the way school did. My parents tried music kindergarten and the local corps. They never took. It would take a little longer for them to see that rock was the thing driving me.