Lying on the floor in one of several hundred dusty old offices in a former East German government building, my life as I knew it was falling apart.
Although this heavy change would be good for me in the long run, I didn't know it yet.
I had dropped myself in a challenging new city that I didn't understand. The career and business I had built up in London had fallen away, my relationship had crumbled amongst the pressures, I was broke and the coldness and emptiness I was experiencing inside was only amplified by the grey, bleak surroundings outside. It was 2004 in Ostbahnhof, Berlin.
Despite 15 years of reunification the GDR's hangover remained and reverberated in me. It seemed as if I was soaking up its ghostly dark omnipresence like a sponge.
Aside from one good German friend who tried to keep my spirits up I was mostly on my own … and then came a very important visit by a friend from London.
She crashed in the office for a few nights, and kindly heard me out over my woes. Later when she went back home she sent me some records. Just receiving this parcel of music felt amazing, someone sending me a gift whilst pretty much everything else was in decline.
Inside was a letter in which she was very enthusiastic about some artists coming from Norway and had included 6 CDs, one of which was a copy of Deathprod's 'Morals and Dogma'.
I did not know what it was or who he was at the time, but this was the first CD I put in my player. As it began a mysterious breeze slowly crept out of the speakers and over me. It was not an icy wind… but an enjoyable one… some kind of moving air calmly blowing all around me.
At first it sounded like a drone, but upon closer listening this sound contained many others and there was a whole world of life within, like a micro composition. Voices slowly swirling, harmonies and melodies speaking back and forth to one another. It gradually picked up into a storm as new distorted sounds started cascading downwards, whilst overtones began to rise, with wave after wave of sound layers overwhelming me to the point of erasing all thoughts. Finally the soundscape evaporated and crept away just as carefully as it had arrived.
I often listened to Deathprod's albums loud in the dark, alone at night - since the biggest benefit of my improvised accommodation was having no volume limit in the spooky office block after hours.
Time after time this track “Tron” made me look to the horizon, beyond my present gloom, making life seem open and full of possibilities. Every time I hear this track it brings me back to that moment and that curious, blissful state of inner peace.
Almost like an epiphany it founded my interest and curiosity in Norway and Norwegian experimental music.
If I ever have a choice in the matter, this is probably one of the final pieces of music I would like to hear.