Rock Hardest (Bad Boy Bandmates & Babies)

The angry teenager phase was as much a rite of passage for teens in rural Norway as learning to drive a truck. It was no accident that Black Metal came from there. If angst was a commodity, 1990s Norway would have cornered the market.

I practiced getting through the set, top to bottom, and then back again. Then everything halted. My fingers burned with that wonderful hurt.

The Ax returned to its case, I bent to the other duties of the day. Societal standards had to be upheld. Least of all, so no one would catch on. It was usually fun playing at normal. Letting people think I fit in when I knew I didn’t. I was a born misfit, but at least I knew it and could find workarounds.

Right now, though, I was working my way around my kitchen. Coffee was brewing and bacon was sizzling, right next to the eggs, like a photo on a breakfast menu.

I had my mother to thank for my cooking skills. My dad had been dead set against it, worried it would turn me gay. I was never sure how that was supposed to work, but he was convinced, with the same fervor he believed I would go to Hell unless I cut my hair.

He was wrong on the first count. We could only wait and see on the second.

My friends and I in Loki’s Laugh had gone back home after touring hard to support the first record. Now we were back in the States and still had a few dates left around our base of Seattle, one of which was tonight, and all of which would let us go home afterwards.

I was thankful for the opportunity to put some time into Ano’Chimera.

It was weird. My bandmates and I had spent so much time together, particularly in the early days. It almost hurt to have them so far away, even though we lived in the same city.

Ragnar, I could understand. He and Stephanie had Karin, their child, to think about. At least he didn’t have to leave them behind, but he seemed almost as relieved as I was to be back home.

And now we were in the U.S. again, far from where we had all grown up together as kids. I was far from my worrying mother and my unstable sibling, which felt both good and bad.

As far as Stig, our third bandmate, went, well… Stig always lived in his own world, not super aware of what was going on around him. He nailed his parts every time though, thanks to that deep processing of his. He’s indispensable to the band, but not much of a drinking buddy. At least not one on one.

Ragnar was best with Stig, anyway— wonderfully patient and aware of Stig’s quirks in ways I could never be.

Seth Black, the owner of Suspicious Activity Records, our band’s record label, had us on a tight schedule, but we trusted his judgement, even it didn’t always make sense. There was work to be done, finishing the tour and then writing the songs for the next album.

Tonight, we had a concert and the time that it started out drew closer, the clock on my phone taunting me with its slow progress. I’d won the coin toss, so I had the van in my driveway. It came down to me to do the rounds and get everyone to our gig on time.

I finished up my meal, then got dressed and packed The Ax into the van. Locking up, I drove to Stig’s. It was a short wait for Stig, which I spent pacing around his guitar case outside his building.

In reality it took mere seconds before Stig came out and we were on our way. What he lacked in conversation, Stig more than made up for in professionalism.

We talked a bit while we drove to Ragnar’s place. I parked, and Stig got out and knocked on the door. Ragnar answered and handed some kit to Stig. Then he waved goodbye.

I spied Stephanie and Karin inside the door. It was almost sweet to see big strong Ragnar giving Stephanie and Karin a little squeeze and kiss before coming to the van. He’d never been a hard case, but he seemed to have gotten even softer after hooking up with Stephanie. Especially when Karin came along.

There was a bit of a long story there, full of confusion and sighs, but it had all ended well, luckily. I was a sucker for happy endings.

We arrived at the venue with plenty of time to set up. After ten years as a band, we had it down to a science. Even Ragnar could do his kit in three minutes or less. At least when he didn’t have a drum tech. We were still hands-on types, yet to break out of the indie mentality, despite being signed.