Well, the remainder of our journey was a train ride back to London and then see what would be coming our way. Dead tired of moving along by putting one foot in front of the other we went for the solution of staying in. Staying in discussing philosophically interesting ways of recording musical albums. One of which was to take on the path of the Mythbusters and find out if a record produced under the influence of too much alcohol (and/or drugs) will turn out to become a classic.

Explicit decision
Tough case
No willingness
Strikingly uncertain and divided
Like a two-faced dog unleashed

Thanks for now London. We’ll meet again. I am moving back…
Here’s a free MP3 of Newborn from The Musician:

Download by right-clicking the link:



We were supposed to pick up a rental car, that was what I’d planned and then out of a sudden there was no car to pick up. Who screwed up? Well, I am not meaning to say that I am among the greatest of tour managers so I guess I would have to take some responsibility for the fuck up. This time around most of the liability lies with me. Harald’s extent of liability goes as far as making sure there is enough booze in the hotel room for whenever we wanna get in liquor.

(meaning he doesn’t have a clue about what I am planning)

Nearest train station with trains to Leicester is St Pancras. There’s like a train every hour to get out of London at daytime but as few as none for a return after midnight. I knew we were in trouble already, as show time tonight was something like 10PM and last train was 10PM. My flight back home the next day was midday so I couldn’t afford to wait for the morning train from Leicester, and the bus had the same odd timetable, so we had to talk the promoter into putting us on a little bit earlier at The Musician.

(something, which he didn’t mind doing)

Leicester before that was straight from the train to the BBC for a radio interview with Chris Baxter talking about the fjords, the mountains surrounding my home village of Langevaag and whether I liked our winning song of 2009’s Eurovision Song Contest (dah). Also more interesting stuff like who of British celebrities I would compare myself to as a Norwegian equivalent in the religion of Celebrityism. That is just an impossible question to answer as I don’t spend my time thinking of such things. And the answer would probably be some hard-working British singer/songwriter who most of the radio listeners of the BBC’s afternoon broadcast driving home from work still haven’t heard of. Or am I just being wry?

(Fionn Regan maybe… he makes nice music)

I played Out Of Skills on my acoustic guitar and everyone was happy. We had a nice chat after all. I like Chris. He invites me in whenever I’m in Leicester it seems.


We left the BBC for sound check at The Musician just to find out we had a couple of hours to knock away… We strolled around the windswept streets of Leicester on a lookout for a restaurant with decent food and ended up in one of those Witherspoon Grills and ordered way too much to eat. A bowl of Chicken Wings would have done it for me but I guess I just had to try the Chicken Breast in BBQ sauce, salad, fries and a beer. Just looking at the menu should scare you away from these places. Nobody can have such tremendous amounts of dishes and get away with it. You just know that whatever you order it’s gonna be just okay, nothing more, nothing less. Except from the spicy wings that were just delicious!

(how to satisfy is an x-factor)

The show went down well. I recorded the whole thing. And I rather leave you an mp3 to download then to describe the event. I find it hard to comment on my own shows… (that’s excactly what I wrote yesterday as well, isn’t it?)

Peace = Love,

Journal of the last day of the trip to be posted tomorrow together with a shit load of mp3’s!

Download by right-clicking the link:



I had a meeting with a music lawyer. Discussing future plans… and me moving back to the UK at some point. The meeting was basically about having to build a new team around me that’ll help move things forward…

(upwards and onwards)

I popped by Fopp in Covent Garden to buy some CDs and came out with the new Sufjan Stevens album, Florence The Machine (Lungs), Season 8 of Family Guy and The Matrix box set. Enough media to accompany me on the rest of the journey. I sat down at some Italian deli near Center Point and had lunch, continued the reading of The Ignorance Of Blood and watched people passing by. Just hanging out. I love the feeling of being a total stranger to almost everyone around me.

(It’s the beauty of the vast city beast)

We took the underground to the nearest tube station to the venue. This reminds me of how low-key this trip is with only a guitar on my back and a bag with a microphone, a tuner, a few 7ins and my newest album. There’s no need to go with Add Lee, or even a cab this time. It’s the old trobadours way.


The Wilmington Arms is a nice cosy place with candlelights on every table and a little bar in the corner. It can seat 60 people and have 100 standing. Tonight it will be a sitting crowd.

(perfect, I am showcasing new songs)

The show went down well. I recorded the whole thing. And I rather leave you an mp3 to download then to describe the event. I find it hard to comment on my own shows…

Peace + Love,

Download by right-clicking the link:
More & More


We had those few beers. We went to Waganama in Camden. It’s one of my favorite restaurants, ’cause even though it’s a chain of restaurants they make good food and good food is what we like. I had my regular course of chili chicken and nudles and a Asahi beer. Harald ordered some duck dumplings (which I liked very much), nudles with whatever and a Tiger, which, of course is not his favorite ’cause he prefers the Cobra.

(what’s up with naming your beer after animals, you Indian people?)

Off to the Lock Tavern. This is the one bar you always have to visit when in Camden. It’s one of those bars with good music (live, or from a DJ), nice girls (& boys), fairly cheap alcohol and a backyard that even in November is quite a comfortable place to dig in beers. Something which is perfect for my sound guy who always fancies a cigarette…

(to fancy or what to fancy that is the question)

Monday morning. A blank page. So why is that? Is that because we want it to be blank. Or is it because we, kind of, during the weekend, forced it to be left blank when Monday morning arrived. Do we like it when it is blank rather than with full colors from all the activities of the last couple of days… or week (depending on how many days of the week you spend on doing silly things). I presume it is a good feeling to clean the blackboard, erase the negative result you are forced to face in your pocket, and start the new life. Yes, that’s it, The New Life. The one we are leading from Monday till Wednesday – at the most.

Peace + possible love,


I was hoping to have my regular coffee and bread this morning. Bread with chocolate toppings or whatever you Englishmen call it. I prefer the Norwegian made Nugatti, whilst a Danish friend of mine say Nutella is the thing, I couldn’t disagree more. But most importantly when it comes to my breakfast and the way I like it, is that it needs a soft-boiled egg (the one with a rummy yolk, you know) and that goes together with the aforementioned bread and chocolate.

(you try, you’d either love or hate it!)

The breakfast at my hotel hadn’t yet opened when I woke up 7AM so I left town with an empty stomach. That’s when I thought of my second favorite combination of food to start the day with. Nice coffee and a croissant. So after the usual avoiding-the-airline-staff-seeing-my-guitar trick and a security check, I could take it on board. But first and foremost – food. And I never learn. I should know by now that these airport cafés never serve fresh food, at best you get something eatable, but today I was so disappointed I wanted to return it and change it for a book instead. That’d at least feed my brain. I didn’t do it of course and went to buy the book after finishing, and not enjoying, the dry but sticky (yes, it is possible) croissant and the worst coffee on the planet.

(whining bastard, yes I am)

Robert Wilson led me softly into sleep with the first chapter of his last book in the Javier Falcón Seville quartet. I was too tired to read more than some twenty pages but at least it left me with the appetite of wanting to read more. So now after hours of traveling I just checked in at my hotel for the next three nights, back on my computer to correspond with the world and The Unthanks (still) singing songs from the speakers, I will carry on the reading.

(I plan on finishing the 484 pages of the book during my 3-day stay)

Passing Time In The Loo (II). That’s what I look for. In all the ways that makes sense.

(it’s the book(s) I am talking about)

Now just got back from a walk down in Portobello Road to have a bite and a quick glance at stuff that I want to buy. A pair of second hand shoes and an old jumper is now mine, and that even before I had the chance to spell B-E-E-R. I think Harald (sound guy) is already fed up with my “shopping” and I can see on his grinning face that he needs a beer. Off we go to the nearest pub.

(always end up drinking)

I have tested the recording equipment I brought already. In the hotel room, on my bed. I think we can make decent recordings of the two shows the next coming days.

(I will put them out for free)

Peace + Love,

PS! I just found out that a music critic in the local newspaper in Stavanger have voted my new album among the 50 Best of 2009. That’s great… I’m #20 out of the 50. Check out: http://berekvam.com/blog/?p=1333


Nov 23 The Wilmington Arms, London
Nov 24 The Musician, Leicester


Before leaving my home in Aalesund I wrote down lyrics for three new songs on my typewriter. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to see ink in real life take form of meaningfulness on paper like it used to do back in the old days when I was a teenager and loved sitting down with my typewriter. I must admit to the fact that my lyrics back in the days weren’t always that good, but great affection for the work kept me believing that I some day could write something decent.

(decent is up for discussion)

The smell of something physical and “alive” rather than the deadness of words on a screen has given back something that I lost a long time ago. I feel connected to my own writing and it is motivating me to sing my own songs in new ways. It takes on a life on its own once it is born into fresh air again.


Now I am back on my computer writing a journal on my trip abroad that not yet has begun. I am still in Bergen in a hotel room listening to a couple of new CDs that I bought and now recommend (The Unthanks – Here’s The Tender Coming, David Sylvian – Manafon). These new musical acquaintances are all thanks to my iPod crashed just as I was about to leave my apartment and go to the airport. All the music on it got erased and I was left with no musical company on my journey. Now I believe that was just meant to be. I have discovered new music and nothing I know of feels better right now.

(all I know of seems to be in present tense so don’t worry)

Inspiration can come from so much. Inspiration in itself is inspiring. It becomes a spiral, or ultimately, if it goes full circle, and that circle happens to be of the inspiring kind, I would hold on to it. That’s where I am now with my writing and my music. It is all going so well in my head and in my heart. I feel inspired all the time. Of course, this is a lot a mambo jumbo, but still I hold on to the thought and it feeds me great amounts of positive energy.

(suck on that for a while)

So bad of you. So bad of me. I am in the position where my thoughts and ideas will at some point be exposed to a number of people (not great numbers though). One of my new songs that I just wrote is about someone I hold dear in my heart (of course, if you knew who it was) and with that comes the dilemma of whether I should sing about it or not. I often write when something bad is going on. At least something that I consider bad after run through my centrifuge. It’s just the opinion of one persona, and it isn’t necessarily of any importance. I still think it is bad of me to sing about it.

(find out for yourself, I hold no responsibility)

29.5 days. That is how long it takes to bend and break yourself to pieces. And be left with no potential future. There is no cure if you think you can survive on building a castle in the air. But you sure get your 15 minutes a hell lot of times going from new to full.

(so that’s what it’s all about?)

Rum empty. Is it possible to run empty if you build a well and you build it well?

(well, we’ll see about that)

Peace +Love,

PS! Remember the shows next week:)

Nov 23 The Wilmington Arms, London, UK
Nov 24 The Musician, Leicester, UK

Ticket links at http://www.robertpost.no

PICS – UK TOUR (selection one)



Just got home from London. Wembley Arena. Avril Lavigne. Great show. Nice girl. Met her backstage.


Beer. Baileys & Coffee. Guitar. Drunken harmonies. Empty corridors. Cold shower. No flush. New clothes. Brush. Out. Bar. No girls. Taxi. Bar. No girls. Taxi. Long conversation about football. Food. Bed. Thirst. Thirst. Thirst.