Remember that dreamy, soft rendition of Arcade Fire's "Suburbs" you heard on Sirius XMU? If you do, you can thank Monica Birkenes - AKA Mr. Little Jeans. And yes, that name DOES sound familiar - it's a Wes Anderson OG, the hilarious Indian character, Kumar Pallana, who got his break in Bottle Rocket and later appeared in Rushmore as, you guessed it, Mr. Little Jeans.
Hailing from Grimstad, Norway, her soundboard now resides in Los Angeles, California - a city that architect Frank Lloyd Wright once said of, "Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles." We'll take her, Norway - thank you. How's her sound? Seductively hypnotic like Portishead with the pop appeal of a sour cherry ball. Unlike her peers, Mr. Little Jeans never plunges into musical melodrama (Moody Blues much?) and simply does not give enough fucks about genre bending her cellophane wrapped tunes. As a matter of fact, she even covered Beyonce's "Single Ladies," which if you ask me, was a bit unnecessary when she's got goodies like "Fool 4 You". And yet, there are those contemplative, downbeat melodies that she does, like "Heaven Sent" and "Wake Up", that live somewhere between being half-awake and asleep.
And so, we had to ask her. What have her dreams been about lately? Are dreams derivative of greater meaning? Do dreams reveal the real YOU?
It was the last day of school (it seemed to be my high school in Norway) in the present day. I was obviously way too old to be there but it didn’t seem to matter. As I was leaving I managed to almost forget my (mom's) cat Puccini (who had been sitting in the cat carrier all day). I took a few pictures of the school before I left.
Just before that I was in California somewhere, possibly Long Beach in some kinda Zoo/Hotel. Ground floor seemed to be the Zoo (like The Long Beach Aquarium but with animals mixed in) and the rest was an enormous hotel with endless hallways and floors and old school looking waiters with room service carts and maroon velvet walls. As I walked through the zoo, I fell into a huge water tank causing a lot of ruckus but somehow managed to get away unscathed and unblamed, slipping into a round glass elevator that seemed to be going up endlessly. I started panicking and pressing my esophagus flat onto the glass as I closed my eyes and sweat started dripping down my face. (I become very hot when I’m stressed out - true).
The whole feeling of the dream was kinda lonely. Where were all my friends at school? Why did I go to the Zoo/Hotel by myself? I think maybe because a friend of mine had just done a very “unfriendly” thing the day before and I was probably upset as I went to sleep. It made me question the friendship, which in turn - I’m sure - made me feel lonely. I also had had a conversation with my boyfriend where he claimed I wasn’t gonna lose my new iPhone charger because I had to pay for it this time - the old ones were his (same conversation I had with my mom growing up more or less: “If you care enough you will remember.”). I had to explain to him that, NO, the importance of whatever I’m forgetting - 100% - does not matter, my brain just doesn’t work right no matter how hard I try, and it’s been like that my entire life. I will be the mom leaving my kid in the grocery store and that’s terrifying. (I love Puccini the cat and he would be so scared and lonely in that cat carrier with all the kids running around. He HATES kids.)
Also, the Hotel side of it comes from watching American Horror Story.
I was in prison, a la Orange Is the New Black, getting friendly with the chef (who was not the character, Red, but a real life chef I kinda know called Anne who rented out the studio I mixed my album in). She would sneak me healthy and delicious food in return for some help with the cleaning. I seemed to keep getting released from prison just to get put back in again, but I really didn’t seem to mind. Fun times.
Just before that I was on a boat with my dad and my two brothers swimming and jumping off the archipelagos into the water. The water was warm and clear and the sun was shining like it rarely does in Norway and the whole scene was pretty joyous as a whole. Angelenos have no idea how much Norwegians LOVE Sunshine. The odd thing, though, was that my brother Philip was wearing a foamy shark costume as a goof, but it didn’t seem to stop him diving in or swimming around in anyway.
Further back in my dream, I can vaguely remember practicing beat-matching with my manager at a friend's house in Echo Park, which for some reason I had moved into.
So, I think the prison scene mostly has to do with my search for healthy/delicious food and not the prison itself. I have a lot of food-intolerances and struggle with finding the right foods. I’m basically on a healthy food quest everyday all day long (when I’m not cooking myself) and it’s exhausting. The boat scene was probably because I’ve been thinking about my family as I’m not going home for Christmas this year. Not sure why my mom wasn’t there, but the whole boating activity thing is more my dad's thing.
The Echo Park beat-matching scenario was most likely because I’m booked to DJ at a four-to-the floor proper club in San Francisco, which is a little out of my comfort-zone, so I must’ve felt the need to practice. A lot of nice feelings all around. I must’ve had a nice day.
I was at a band-rehearsal in Norway with the drummer from the band I had when I was 15. We were hanging out after rehearsal and he told me to say hello to my mom like he always used to do. My mom loooooves this guy, btw. On my way to rehearsal there where huge pieces of cars in the road, so I had to walk around everything. As I walked around, I bumped into a little girl I used to babysit in Silverlake with her dad (they were somehow in Norway).
I might have a show coming up in Norway in February and I’ve been thinking about getting a Scandi band together for a while now. If I did, it would probably allow me to start doing shows over there again, and I wouldn’t have to fly anyone over. And who knows, maybe my old drummer will even be in it if he wants to. He’s still got it.
The little girl and her dad is someone I wonder about from time to time. I believe the little girl is autistic (walking on her toes, not responding to her name, speech regression, etc.) and when I tried to bring it up to her dad they stopped calling me. I just want her to get diagnosed, so she can get help.
I had just performed somewhere (at what felt like Clifton's Cafeteria in L.A.) with lots of different floors and nooks and crannies. It was very dark and I think the whole building was made of dark wood. I was hanging out after the show and I was talking to some friends of mine who I hadn't seen in a while. My boyfriend came over to interrupt me as I was telling them some silly joke. I snapped at him, then felt bad.
My opener was an adult choir for some reason, who also sold lame arts and crafts type jewelry at their merch booth. One of the ladies kept trying to give me a necklace with stones in various shades of pink as we were packing up, but then kept disappearing. She said they all felt sorry for me for not having a lot of jewelry on stage. By the time we were all packed up she was gone and I never got the necklace.
What a boring dream. Sorry. I’ve spent quite a bit of time at Clifton's lately (an old revamped 4-story restaurant bar with an olden time-y vibe), so I think that’s where the setting comes from. I think the snapping at my boyfriend was in there 'cause I feel bad for him at shows. When I get stressed the people closest to me get the shit and then I feel bad about it later. My boyfriend obviously gets his fair share. (Sorry!) The adult choir is a mix between a choir who did a version of "Dear Santa" and sent me a clip of it on Instagram, and is one extremely persistent lady who came up to me at show to give me necklace that wasn’t exactly my cup of tea.
I was on my way to the corner-store with my bike (don’t know why I needed my bike, it’s not even a block) to get some Milky Way for my bf when I realized I was wearing a shirt with some really bad language, while showing an uncomfortable amount of side-boob. As I realized this, I tried to cover up both the side-boob and the language, but notice it’s a cashier I half-know, so I also have to make some awkward conversation. When I get out, my sound guy is waiting for me on the street choking on some food.
The guy who worked the cash register at the corner-store was kinda my stylist prob 4 years ago on the "Runaway" shoot and he was working there both yesterday or today. The problem is, I do kinda know him and we have a lot of mutual friends, but neither one of us are very good at small talk, hence it’s always extremely awkward. He only works very rarely, but it’s almost always on days where I look like absolute shit, and mostly bra-less, which I always try to cover up with my arms. Today he yelled, "MR. LITTLE JEANS!", as I walked into the store and I had just woken up. Never side-boob though. Not even once.
I also have a “fuck harvest” t-shirt that Morrissey had made as a fuck you to my old label, that I sometimes sleep in. However, the other day I ended up wearing it out to lunch with my friend, after sleeping in it (it happens every now and then - I’m not proud of it) and I felt awkward about that too. I believe hat explains the anxiety of going to the corner-store.
And my lovely sound guy; he has a very small esophagus. I think it runs in his family, and throughout the tour he kept getting food stuck. In Vancouver we had to wait to drive to Seattle for about 40 min because he was choking on his dim sum.
My mom and I were hanging out in this place in Europe somewhere, waiting to see a show but we were way early. I suppose we were in Lady Gaga’s dressing room 'cause she very confidently walks in wearing only a little light blue tie dye style underwear. My mum also happened to only be wearing underwear too, so Gaga gives a nod of approval and tells her she looks good. She’s holding a pack of 5 of them (cheap kind you’d get at walmart) and says that they’re the best, and asks if we would like a pair each. We get slightly confused, but politely decline and leave feeling surprised at how friendly she was. After that, the dream takes me to an almost empty sweet shop in London decorated pretty much like a frozen yogurt place. I’m meeting my old room mate from London and some of her friends. They sit there very quietly as they have to concentrate to try and eat as much as they can as they have an annual pass there. The idea of an annual pass to a candy store kinda blows my mind and I discuss becoming a member with my boyfriend after, but quickly decide it’s a bad idea.
Before that, I am still in Europe, but hanging out with a group of ladies in their 50’s when I decide to lightly dye my hair. Somehow the color gets left in and the color keeps changing every time I look in a mirror. As I look in the mirror one last time, the healthy hair I’ve been growing out for the last year has turned white and is falling out in chunks.
I’ve never been a Gaga fan, but I actually kinda love her in American Horror Story this season. I find her acting to be more interesting than everything else that she does (controversial I know, sorry). So, I think this dream depicts my change of heart when it comes to Gaga.
Meeting my old London roommate in the candy store is a mix between seeing a pic of her and her Christmas tree on Facebook last night and my desire to go to either Olsons or Sockerbit lately (they're both scandinavian candy stores in LA). Both stores are a bit of a drive, so I’ve been working on convincing my bf to take me for some time.
The hair situation is something that kinda happened to me, just not as extreme, and I’ve been trying to remedy the situation ever since. Although, I didn’t do it myself; a hairdresser ruined my lovely blonde locks by using way too many harsh chemicals on my hair a couple of days apart and my hair started falling out in chucks. It’s started growing out again, but I still really miss my blonde hair and it’s been on my mind lately.