Track By Tracks: Frusen Sorg - Smärtpunkter (2026)

About the lyrics:

The album more or less reads as a diary of things I (Kalle) experienced during a year of trauma and PTSD therapy. So it’s not very sunny, more like an Unhappy Meal with an album instead of a toy. That said, this is where art is unbeatable as a processing mechanism and a survival tool. It even makes it fun to process the most painful things, which is so awesome it’s hard to believe. It makes it possible to turn the worst elements of your life into something strong and beautiful.

It’s basically a tool for turning shame into pride. And at the same time, a secular form of exorcism.

Also, a lot of the lyrics are observations of small, infected, dark corners of my mind. It’s not only truths or emotions, but the most painful moments and emotions, and temporary conclusions. If you are struggling with PTSD or trauma or depression or whatever, remember: No one is so incredibly unique and special that you can’t be helped. Research has found that time really doesn’t heal the wound, unless you clean it properly. So some of these lyrics are what was washed out of my infected mental wounds.

1. Att slippa bli älskad (To avoid being loved):

Sure, not being loved is probably horrible. But even worse, what if you don’t even want to be loved? For a human being, isn’t that the worst, darkest fucking feeling possible? It’s not even hate, it’s just being allergic to belonging. This is a feeling we don’t recommend, but in dark times, if you dig deep, you might end up feeling it in some tiny corner of your mind.

2. Under svärtans skyddande vinge (Under the sheltering wind of the dark):

More than a few of our songs are about this subject. It’s about being so used to navigating in the dark that you feel at home in it. It becomes your safety, since it sort of grants you permission to not participate in your own life, which can be deceptively relieving if you’re messed up. So basically, being addicted to suffering, or like a Stockholm syndrome of depression. Dark.

3. Bort (Away):

This is about trauma, and how the skin never forgets the feeling of being soaked in blood, even after it’s cleaned and gone for decades. It’s about trying to outrun panic itself, even though your bones are still broken.

4. Håll andan (Hold your breath):

This is about a weird trick the body does to suppress trauma. If you tense up, if you hold your breath, you kind of can’t feel your psychic pain. Is this the opposite of “breathwork”, “yoga” or “mindfulness”? Is it Mindlessness? The only good thing about it is that it stays away from crystals and horoscopes. Our experience is that you can do it for about 4 decades, then your body gives up, and you have to change tactics (yes, we mean therapy).

5. Jag är en dålig ide (I’m a bad idea):

Sometimes I have seen myself as one of those projects that are just doomed from the start. A bad idea badly executed. When I design or write music, I skip these nowadays; they can’t be saved, and I should just start over. But this is the only person I am, and I don’t believe in any past or future lives, so I have had to rework this shit idea quite a bit.

6. Hur jävla lång rid ska det ta att dö (How fucking long does it take to die):

Well, the title says it all. Sometimes it baffles me how much psychic pain a human can endure and not just flat-out die. It’s amazing and sad. The worst part is that if you are just strong enough to barely keep going instead of totally disintegrating, you stay in a state of optimized anxiety capability. A most unfortunate superpower. It’s better to crash and deal with the root cause, but if you get by, you might not do that.

7. Jag saknar mig själv (I miss myself):

This is about being so lost that you don’t recognise yourself anymore, and not liking the current version. It’s very straightforward. Where did I go? I miss that guy.

8. Djuret i mig (The animal in me):

Omg. I almost don’t want to go into this one. It’s too horrible. I’ve listened to it once or twice while mixing, but I blurted out,” OMG, someone else had to listen to this, not me”. Let’s just say it’s about a traumatic event, with actual quotes from screams, and how merciless time is in adding distance between you dead loved ones.

9. En Kall Famn (A cold embrace):

Pretty much the same subject as in Under svärtans skyddande vinge, but this time described as a cold hug, a cold embrace. Soothing but absolutely horrible and cold.

10. Ondast jävel vinner (Most evil wins):

This one is not about me, horray! We wrote and recorded this the same evening that Trump got re-elected. Whoever is the most evil and vile seems to win these days. Bullying and abuse seem to work incredibly well if your goals are 100% egoistic and even sadistic. This will shift at some point, and we’re here for it.

11. Du stänkte din skit på min själ (You splashed your feces on my soul):

This is the very first song we made for this band. From start to finish, this is the first time I sang a song; it was a first take because I hadn’t learned to bust my vocal cords at that point. It reads a letter to the drunk filth who drove his car into my family’s car when I was a child. Basically, I’m saying that it would have been great if he had died before he killed my dad and maimed the rest of us. At the time of writing this, I have a headache that directly comes from the vodka this total filth had in 1987. He created several universes of pain.

12. Det egentliga livet (The actual life):

This is about the life that could have been. That possible life, which was destroyed by the drunk guy in that car, has haunted me and sort of blocked me from living the one that I do have. I have a clear picture of it in my mind; it’s sort of a transparent tube, life goes forward inside it, but I have stepped outside.

13. Fångad under ices (Trapped under the ice):

This is straight up about the feeling of being trapped in a shit situation. Not getting out and eventually normalising that feeling.

14. På flykt (On the run):

Everyone knows you can’t successfully run away from yourself, but a lot of us try. You need to stop running, let your inner demons chew a bit, and then they’ll eventually stop.

15. En råtta som flyr från vårt sjunkande skepp (A rat escaping from our sinking ship):

For a while, the only thing that gave me peace was dragging home found wood and making furniture from it. Making things from trash (wood is never really trash, though) gave me a feeling of escaping from the basically suicidal global trade system. I want to buy nothing. I don’t want to be a part of it. It is impossible to not be part of it. I still had to buy nails and some electricity, and food, etc., but still. It made me feel like a rat swimming away from the sinking ship, which is our capitalist society, which is an incredible feeling.

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