Words With: Serena Maneesh

Hotly-tipped Norwegian six-piece melodic noisesmiths Serena-Maneesh are currently turning heads with their heady,hazy retrogressive rock sound. Their fanbase is certain to grow with the impending re-release of their self-titled debut album. Gigwise, with its perfectly manicured finger on the pulse, collared band founder Emil Nikolaisen, a twenty-something veteran of the Norwegian music scene, to chat about myriad topics including fashion, the perils of shoegazing and touring…
 
Gigwise:  Greetings, Emil. Now, Serena is Spanish for “love song in the night” and Maneesh is Hindi for “God of the mind”. What attracted you to these two words in particular when you came to naming the band?
Emil: “My great great grandmother was named Serena. I am half Finnish and there were rumours over there that she was a witch. I doubt it. She had seen something. The word Serena possesses a lot of connotations. About serenity. Something serene. Serenades. About seeing the light. I wanted to portray the moment when the curtains are being taken away. You see it in a glimpse, then it is gone. But 
you saw it, you know it is true and you treasure that moment dearly. Some kind of revelation. Maneesh? It' s a family name. Yeah, you can go on about connotations here as well but I'd rather stop about 
giving you too much on this.”

G: Fair enough. Why do you write your songs in English rather than Norwegian?
E:  “Using rock ´n´ roll as a 'classic' frame for your expression, words in English are like ‘the’ breathe of a monster institution. Only a few times here have I seen Norwegian bands sing in Norwegian with 'success' and trustworthiness. It is like the folk tradition here. Songs being conceived in small dark valleys deep in our country. They sing in their strange Norwegian dialects and it is as natural as breathing.  It’s heritage. My rock ´n´ roll tradition, however, is all bred on imported goods. I tried a couple of times to sing in Norwegian but it sounded ridiculous.”

G:  Your sound has been described as “miasmic clouds of guitar, distorted and refried, floating over you, showering you with acid rain then floating on before you know what happened, lingering like a  crush”. How would you describe it?
E:  “I am no good with words to describe what I do. I do music. Curious though, what kind of things other people see and hear. The above statement is pretty up there, and I cheerfully recognise that place.”

G:  For me, a non broadsheet writer, your music walks a tightrope between noise and melody – of the two, which is more important to your sound?
E:  “Well you describe the point. I’ve always wanted to emphasize tension. On many levels. The one is nothing without the other! Constant battle, you should not really know what's behind the next corner.”

G: How would you describe the Oslo music scene?
E:  “It’s quite patriotic. There are certain small camps every here and there that are very welcoming to their respective groups. There' s a lot of moderation going on, to entertain a certain general mainstream crowd, but you find exceptions here and there that build their own world. Like this psych madman, Robert Birdeye, the pop group, The Loch Ness Mouse, some black metal bands and a noise-rock trio called årabrot.”