San Diego Union-Tribune (Sunday)
Back in black and white
The Hives’ new music was paused for a decade — until now — and the five-piece punk band will be at the Belly Up Tavern on Monday
Onstage at New York City’s cozy nightclub Racket in May, Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist had an important announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the frontman shouted to the mess of bopping heads and airborne limbs gathered before him. “Due to an unfortunate rift in the time-space continuum, it has been 11 years since the Hives played New York.” He tossed his arms triumphantly in the air, as if landing a triple axel. “We are back!” The crowd gleefully erupted.
The Hives, a five-piece punk band from Sweden, released five studio albums from 1997 to 2012, making their biggest splash with the single “Hate to Say I Told You So” — a garage-rock gem that spent 11 weeks on the Hot 100 when the group’s second LP, “Veni Vidi Vicious,” arrived in the United States in 2002.
The band got swept into the “rock revival” of the moment alongside the White Stripes and the Vines. But they had already made their name onstage, where their arsenal includes matching black-and-white suits and instruments, Almqvist’s high kicks and charming provocations, roadies dressed like ninjas and a guitarist called Nicholaus Arson who sneers, crowd surfs and dramatically blows on his curled fingers as he flicks picks into the crowd.
“They’re probably the best live band I’ve ever seen,” said Max Kuehn, the drummer of the California surf-punk band Fidlar, who was honored when the Hives took his group on the road for its first national tour. “If you go to a lot of shows,” he added, “you can really tell the difference of just how tight their songs are and how rehearsed everything is.”
Although the Hives continued to play concerts every year since the arrival of “Lex Hives” in 2012, they had no fresh music to offer — until now.
In August, they released “The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons,” 12 new tracks filled with headsnapping riffs and shoutalong choruses led by the explosive single “Bogus Operandi.” Now they’re touring to support that album with a sold-out concert Monday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach.
“There was a lot of time where we didn’t have songs,” Almqvist said as the quintet gathered at a rooftop restaurant in Manhattan two days after the Racket show, dressed — you guessed it — in matching
Hives daywear, white denim
The Hives with Kate Clover 8 p.m. Monday Belly Up Tavern, 143 S. Cedros Ave., Solana Beach Sold out bellyup.com
When: Where:
Tickets: Online: jackets with black shirts and jeans. “It was like a slow, 10-year-long panic,” he joked with a slight accent, adding a dose of classic Hives bravado: “It was never an outright panic because we continued to be so immensely popular worldwide.”
“But,” he added, “it sucks being in a good band that doesn’t make new music.”
The Hives have never seemed at risk of running out of steam. Almqvist and Arson, brothers born a year apart, grew up in Fagersta, a small city a two-hour drive from Stockholm, where they soaked up every punk record they could get their hands on — trading tapes, scraping together money for imports, taking in pals’ rejects. “That’s how we found the Sonics,” Arson said. A friend handed the LP over, “and it kind of blew our minds.” The guitarist rattled off a list of acts that had made an impact on them: the New Bomb Turks, the Oblivians, the Remains, the Misfits, the Dead Kennedys, “a lot of ’60s music.”
The original band — the brothers plus guitarist Vigilante Carlstroem, drummer Chris Dangerous and bassist Dr. Matt Destruction — came together in the ’90s when the members were in their teens, and “the mosh pit thing was big for us,” Almqvist said. “Going nuts and falling over each other was for us always a part of the concert experience. If the crowd wasn’t doing that, it didn’t feel interesting.”
Showmanship was a priority from day one. “I think before we were good, we were entertaining,”
The Hives singer Per Almqvist performs during the group’s show at Molleplatsen in Malm, Sweden, on Aug. 5. The punk band will be performing Monday at a sold-out concert at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach.
added Almqvist, who is known for his strutting and agitating. (In June, he split his head open with a swinging mic.) “People who didn’t like us would still watch us doing whatever we were doing, because no one kind of knew what was going to happen.”
The music was fast; Almqvist’s wit matched it. “We grew up on 50 percent punk and 50 percent stand-up comedy,” Arson said, including “Saturday Night Live” reruns on MTV and VHS tapes of Eddie Murphy specials.
Before they could afford props, the Hives thrifted black-and-white clothes, painted a guitar and made their own light-up sign that blazed onstage, giving them heat rash. Almqvist estimates they played 500 shows in their first suits. “They smelled so bad,” Dangerous said, “when we walked onstage at the end of the tour, the audience stepped back.”
But the efforts paid off. Scottish music business icon Alan Mcgee became an early supporter, putting out a greatest hits of sorts called “Your New Favourite Band” in 2001, which brought the Hives wider
attention from listeners and U.S. record labels.
Interscope reportedly paid millions to secure the band (the Hives still won’t confirm the amount) and gave them creative control. “They created a buzz on their own, a subculture,” Jimmy Iovine, then the label’s chair, told Spin for a 2004 cover story. “I respect that. I will pay for that. I will let them drive.”
The group stuck to its formula on “Tyrannosaurus Hives” from 2004 — 12 songs, less than 30 minutes — and stretched out on “The Black and White Album” three years later, which featured production from hitmakers including Pharrell Williams and Jacknife Lee. “We were probably the last rock band to have a big budget,” Almqvist quipped. “We almost owe it to rock ’n’ roll to use it,” he recalled thinking. (They went independent and self-produced “Lex Hives” in 2012.)
The Hives were continually presented with unlikely opportunities, which they wholeheartedly embraced: recording a Christmas song with Cyndi Lauper, licensing “Tick Tick Boom” for a Nike commercial,
taking on challenging assignments opening for both Maroon 5 and Pink in arenas across the U.S.
“We have to go and find people who hadn’t heard us before. And you want to be able to turn over a crowd,” Arson said. “It’s a way of keeping your tools sharp.”
But new songs — at least, new songs up to Hives standards — weren’t flowing. When the pandemic hit, the band ruled out remote recording and turned to a fellow Swede: producer Patrik Berger, whose credits include Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own” and hits by Charli XCX. Berger had started out in a punk band called Snuffed by the Yakuza and is “a proper music nerd,” Arson said; the Hives trusted his judgment.
“They played me some demos just to hear like, which of these, like, hundred songs do you think would fit on a record?” Berger said in a phone interview. “My role,” he explained, was “getting them in the room and start having fun with these songs again and not overthink it so much.”
The result is a classic Hives album filled with boasts, powder-keg energy and punk angst. (“They say
that life’s for living/but life as we know it’s a stick up,” Almqvist croons on “Stick Up.”) “Countdown to Shutdown” is built on a bouncing bass line by The Johan and Only, who replaced Destruction in 2013. “What Did I Ever Do to You?” originated on a hybrid instrument — an organ, guitar, drum machine and microphone — that Almqvist picked up on Swedish Craigslist for $400, which included the patent.
The album’s title is a nod to some Hives mythology — that they are the creation of a Svengali named Randy Fitzsimmons, who writes all their songs. In truth, the band labors over every track. “They turn every stone,” Berger said, “a little bit like working a Rubik’s Cube, trying to figure out how can we make this as good as possible?”
The band’s absence from recording coincided with a drop-off in rock’s cultural and commercial might, a fact that provided Almqvist with an easy layup: “I’m just saying that the Hives don’t release a record for 10 years, rock becomes completely unpopular,” he said. “Coincidence? We think not.”
wide-eyed Peace Corps volunteer. I stayed two years, fell in love, returned to get married and made annual trips from America, when Timisoara tugged at me like an old friend. My wife and I moved back six years ago. I’ve witnessed an evolution from the glum postrevolution years to today’s cosmopolitan vibe, thanks to a booming tech sector, significant foreign investment and youthful energy from 40,000 university students.
For me, Timisoara’s appeal is twofold: its architecture, which jumps out immediately, and its authenticity, which sinks in gradually. This is no tourist trap with trinket shops galore, but a genuine, livable and multicultural city that moves at a measured pace and offers just enough for visitors to fill two or three days — perhaps surprising them with a taste of Romania, a country still enduring an unwarranted image problem, either nonexistent or leaning negative.
Timisoara’s historic core, which has the most popular sights, is compact, walkable and centered on three car-free squares — Victory, Freedom and Union. Along the way, a mélange of bold architecture abounds.
In Victory Square, the 300-foottall Orthodox cathedral dominates with its striking neo-moldavian, Byzantine-tinged style more common on the other side of the country. The cathedral, built in the 1930s and one of the world’s tallest Orthodox churches, features multiple turrets, a massive gilded altar, towering frescoes and cavernous porticos. A free, often overlooked museum in the basement, curated by a gregarious nun, houses ancient icons, manuscripts and religious artifacts.
Elsewhere in the square, it’s worth admiring the early-20thcentury palaces still identified by the names of the original owners, then the city’s wealthiest families,
The Orthodox Metropolitan Cathedral sits on one end of Victory Square in Timisoara. The city’s architecture reflects its multiculturalism and religious tolerance. including Neuhausz, Weiss, Dauerbach, Löffler and Széchenyi. On one side, two Modernist Communist-era apartment blocks discombobulate the design continuity, but mostly the buildings are superb examples of Art Nouveau, specifically, Viennese Secession with colorful, even playful Hungarian and eclectic elements — legacies of a building boom when the city was under Austro-hungarian rule. Restoration work continues, but several facades were recently returned to their original grandeur that rivals any in Europe.
At the end of the square, the 686-seat opera house is intimate and stunning inside, but open only for shows and tour groups with prior permission.
From Victory Square, many wander the short Alba Iulia Street, which is shaded by umbrellas overhead, passing buskers and gelato shops on their way to Freedom Square and its elaborate statue of St. John of Nepomuk and the Virgin Mary, made in Vienna in 1756. A former Hungarian bank on one corner has yet to be restored, but its elegant tower and rounded balconies exude Art Nouveau.
The pomegranate-colored, 18th-century former City Hall, in eclectic style fused with classical elements, now houses a university music school — violin and trumpet sounds often emanate from its windows, adding to the charm.
If hunger beckons, there’s Cafeneaua Verde, an inviting bistro with a diverse menu, and the popular La Focacceria serving up focaccia, panini and croissants.
Nearby edifices are a mix of renovated and not, a common theme across the city center, from side streets to the inner neighborhoods of Fabric, Iosefin and Elisabetin, which simultaneously radiate architectural charm and neglect, but are worth exploring.
Timisoara has restored scores of its 14,000 historic buildings, spiffing them up to a point — in the interwar period, it must have been a stunning city. But much work and well-worn edges remain, a reality of a city not fully polished — authentic and steadily transforming, seemingly eager to shed stereotypes associated with
Children playing at Union Square in Timisoara. Near the square, visitors can delve in the historic role the city played in the Romanian revolution of December 1989 at the Revolution Memorial Association and museum.
Eastern Europe.
Two blocks away is Union Square, a picturesque potpourri of pastels and architectural jewels. The Baroque Palace, an administrative center during the Austro-hungarian Empire, now houses the Timisoara National Museum of Art, which is hosting a monthslong exhibition of Romanian sculptor Constantin Brancusi, bringing pieces from the Pompidou Center in Paris, the Tate Modern in London and elsewhere.
The celebrated artist spent most of his career in Paris, and this is the largest exhibition of his work in Romania in 50 years.
Next to the art museum is the whimsical 1911 Brück
House, an arresting example of Art Nouveau and Secession with its pink-andmint color scheme resembling a gingerbread house.
Across the square is St. George Roman Catholic Cathedral, resplendent after its recent four-year, nearly $6 million makeover. Inside the Baroque masterpiece, you’re transported to Italy, though Masses are celebrated in Romanian, Hungarian and German.
Union Square encapsulates Timisoara’s multiculturalism and religious tolerance. Opposite the Catholic “dome,” as it’s known locally, is the ornate and colorful Serbian Orthodox bishopric and church. A German-language school (that produced two Nobel
laureates) and bookstore are nearby, while a few blocks away is Cetate Synagogue, completed in 1865 and reopened last year after a lengthy renovation.
A once-thriving Jewish community exceeded 13 percent of the population in the interwar period but dwindled significantly because of mass emigration during the Communist regime. Even so, the Jewish legacy in Timisoara is outsize and visible in many of the finest buildings, including the Brück House and landmark Max Steiner Palace, which emits Gaudí vibes on its corner of the square.
The Union Square area is full of places to dine and imbibe, most with outdoor
The Romanian National Opera House in Timisoara. Its stunning interior is only open for shows and permitted group tours.
• Timisoara is one of three European Capitals of Culture in 2023. A full slate of art exhibitions, concerts, music festivals, theater and dance extends through December.
• The cultural capital organizers are using venues outside museums, from hidden courtyards to private galleries, as exhibition spaces.
• The Romanian currency is the leu (plural, lei). At restaurants, expect to pay 25 to 45 lei (about $5.50 to $10) for soups and starters and 70 to 90 lei for entrees. For accommodations, the four-star Atlas Hotel, which opened in 2021, provides modern comfort just steps from the main squares. Doubles from 700 lei.
seating, and it’s the go-to spot for locals. For traditional Romanian food, try Miorita for soups, stews and grilled meats with polenta. Vinto is an upmarket, winefocused restaurant where you can sample Romania’s underrated varietals. Zai Miniature, with a wide gin selection, serves cocktails and spritzes with a view, while Garage Cafe has some of the best breakfast and pastries in town, including vegan ones. Naru, a cozy, vegetarian-friendly restaurant with a shaded terrace, is across from Doppio, one of several specialty-coffee standouts.
Near Union Square is the Revolution Memorial Association and its museum about the tragic and euphoric events of December 1989. A short film and exhibits
are informative and riveting but graphic and not for young children or the queasy. It’s a worthy if humbling experience, especially eye-opening for Americans and other Westerners.
Besides exploring the main squares, another way to experience Timisoara like a local is to wander along the navigable Bega Canal, which runs through the city, passing verdant parks with walkways and bike paths, one leading 25 miles to the Serbian border. Several bars and restaurants dot the canal, but it’s mostly a pleasant place to stroll and watch “vaporetto” water taxis and kayaks glide past countless weeping willows.