About Celestial


It's like the last day before the summer holidays.
Mum and Dad are dressed up in the auditorium and the orchestra has rehearsed "En blomstertid nu kommer" (traditional Swedish hymn about the arrival of summer) every Thursday throughout the term. Still, they are not very good or even tight, it is not quite holding together. One is reluctant, another uninterested and a third one simply without talent. But for a few seconds, before the last chorus, everything falls into place. Every instrument hits the right note at the perfect moment. The music teacher sheds a tear of relief and gratefulness. David, who plays the trumpet, can see his parents holding hands in the middle of the seventh row. The orchestra relaxes. And everything falls apart. The last chorus just slips into the sand. One after another, they stop playing, and shamefully the music fades into nothing at all. A few futile attempts at finding the right note, then silence rules. Their eyes stare at the floor as the sound of scattered polite applauds can be heard. But the few proud seconds when they played the song more beautifully than it had ever been played before will forever be kept in their hearts.

(Andres Lokko, Sonic Magazine nr 20, 2004, article about Maher Shalal Hash Baz)

In some aspects the text above has nothing to do with Celestial's music, as it is written about something completely different than our music, but in other ways I believe that the text says almost everything there is to say. The view of music that is conveyed above is the way I wish that I had always felt, feel at the moment, and hopefully forever will feel.
I truly believe that a stumbling balance act between the wonderful and the embarrassing is truly amazing; it gives the music a very strange yet pleasant feeling. Sometimes a certain song, in a specific moment can bring forward the sweetest of feelings. It could feel as if it were the best song ever, although I know that really is just true in that precise moment.
Simon Goddard has written a book about The Smiths subtitled "The songs that saved your life". I guess that can be true for some people but I would rather put it as "the songs that make your life more worthwhile". I guess that everyone has their own songs that they will forever keep in their hearts. Sometimes it's because of a well-kept memory and sometimes it's just beyond words. At times I can look forward to a new song with dread and sometimes with expectations that can barely be fulfilled. I would like to portray a scene to describe how I feel:

Imagine that you are standing on a platform at some remote railway station. The rain is pouring down and your umbrella is safely tucked away on the top shelf in your wardrobe. You stand there soaking wet, but instead of feeling miserable and condemning life, your expectations are slowly rising as you hear the train approaching at a distance. Soon you will see it turning the corner coming around the bend and then you will hear that familiar squeaking sound as the wheels are trying to get a grip on the rails. Suddenly it is standing there, right in front of you, and within a matter of seconds the door handle will be pressed down and doors slowly slide open.

From this point, I guess that you can complete the scene with your own contributions. I assume that every person constructs his or her own picture, in the same way that you have your own expectations when you turn on an album.
If you really like a certain song, it can invoke the same feeling as seeing someone you really care about. Often you know what to expect when you listen to a familiar song, but at times you might be surprised. Once in a blue moon, when or where you least expect it, you experience a moment that will take hold of your heart and make everything just fine.

My name is Andreas Hagman and this is Celestial.
I grew up in Kumla, a town well known in Sweden well-known for its imprisoned surroundings, and abroad not really known at all. I spent my childhood years happily collecting football results from the English Premier league, which I neatly glued on pieces of papers and stuck in folders for safe keeping.
My first real encounter with music was in the second or third grade, when everyone had to choose what instrument they wanted to play. My first choice was guitar, followed by the piano, and my third and last choice, was "whatever", or in this case, the trumpet. As a result of my choices, for a few years after this, I played the trumpet.

My one and only proper performance was at a senior citizens centre, in what I believe was 1987. Anyway, the orchestra I was performing with was perhaps not the greatest of all times and the amount of applauds we received was in proportion to this.
But I guess we did our very best.
The next musical episode I would like to present takes place about ten years later. I had graduated from sixth form college the day before and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. This day ought to be the happiest day of your life, but I guess that it turned out slightly differently in my case. Somehow, I managed to get my right leg broken in two places and was confined to my bed for the remaining part of that summer. At that time, spending the entire summer indoors was really not my greatest idea of fun. However, empathy was offered, and one day my caring father came home with an electric guitar. Although I am still not a very, or even a remotely, talented musician, you must believe me when I say that it would take a man of Hendrix's calibre to be able to play lying down fixated in a cast from the waist down.  Things could only get better I guess…

My warmest appreciation to those people who have paid, and those who will pay us their attention.

We will ALWAYS do our best, no matter what, please let me introduce: CELESTIAL