The thought that we are all like one big ocean, constantly creating waves for each other, is a beautiful one. That each of us adds something to the movement, and that the waves we create eventually reach someone else. We see it in the small things — in our families, our relationships, in the way our moods, personalities, words and actions affect the people around us — and, in the end, on a much larger scale too. “Everything we send out creates some kind of movement in somebody else,” says Tina Dico. And this is also at the heart of her new single Surfing: the idea that we are all connected, riding each other’s energies while trying to keep our own balance.
For more than 25 years, the Danish singer-songwriter has been writing songs about life and the things that move within it. Her path has taken her from Denmark to London and eventually Iceland, where she now lives with her husband and musical partner Helgi Jónsson and their family. Over the years, what she looks for in songwriting has changed too. Less searching for what might be around the next corner, more noticing and staying connected to what is already there.
Her upcoming album Balancing Small Things On Sharp Edges, due in October, grows out of exactly these observations from the middle of life. In our interview, we talk with Tina about getting older and finding balance, family and relationships, the noise of the world and the changing music business, the strange pressure to constantly compete for our attention, and why music can still create a space where we can simply slow down, listen and feel connected.
Photography Helgi Jonsson
Hey dear Tina! Your new album, which will be released in October, is called Balancing Small Things On Sharp Edges. It explores the balance between the everyday life we want to enjoy and share with others, and a world that keeps getting louder. You also said it’s about observations from the middle of life. Could you explain a bit more what you mean by that? What kind of observations come with being at this stage of life?
When I was younger, I was painfully restless, traveling the world with my guitar, searching high and low for something I couldn’t define or describe. Always stretching to see what was around the next corner and never feeling at ease where I was. That was very clear in my lyrics, too. This was kind of what my songwriting was about!
At this point in life, I’ve actually found what I was looking for, and now I’m trying instead to stay connected to it, to protect it and enjoy it, live inside it, which is not always easy in a world that constantly asks for our attention and tries to make us restless and fearful.
This is what I see in my lyrics now. Not looking for something new. Just trying to connect with what already is.
How do you personally keep your balance in everyday life between family, work, the loud world, and your own expectations and wishes?
I’m actually not very good at it. I have a lot of noise in my head and I very rarely manage to turn it off. Being with the kids is the best thing for that. Kids force you to be in the moment. They don’t care about world politics or my work life. They bring your thoughts back to the little joys of everyday life.
But songwriting is good. It grounds me and shuts off the noise. And then the main luxury in my life in Iceland is the outdoor pools we have, because Iceland has such an abundance of hot water. Every day, in rain, snow, midnight sun or complete darkness, I walk to our local pool. I sit in very hot water for a while, then ice-cold water, swim, steam bath, walk home. And that keeps me in balance!
Surfing is the beautiful first release from the album, and I really love what the song is about. It’s about how deeply connected we all are. You describe how, just like in a family, our moods, personalities, words, and actions affect everyone around us. And you also speak about the bigger picture in the world: “Everything a person sends out into the world creates ripples. We are one big ocean of movement, all trying to keep our balance.” Was there a specific moment in your everyday life when this idea suddenly came to you, or how did the theme and the song come to life for you?
Yes, I do think it came from the depths of my relationship with my husband and the experience, at a certain time, that when one was down, the other one was up, and it felt almost cyclical. It was washing over us like waves. And it made me think extra deeply about the dynamics between all of us. How we’re all riding each other’s energies and constantly affecting one another, mostly without really realising it.
You feel it clearly in a family. One person walks into the room in a certain mood and suddenly the whole room is different. We push and pull, lift each other up, bring each other down, adjust and react. On a much bigger scale, too, of course: in communities, online, in the media, between countries, in friendships. Everything we send out creates some kind of movement in somebody else.
So Surfing became this image of all of us as an enormous ocean, creating waves for each other and at the same time trying to keep our own balance. You can’t really separate the surfer from the water and the waves.
“I like to feel like a small part of something bigger. That makes me feel good.”
You’ve been a songwriter for 25 years. About that you said: “Releasing music today is something completely different than it was twenty years ago. Everything moves so fast, and there’s always something new competing for our attention. I don’t really want to compete with that.” Instead, you said you simply want to keep telling the story, start new conversations, and add another chapter. What stories are playing the biggest role in your life right now? What kinds of stories inspire your songwriting these days?
When I started releasing music, “the album” was still the format. People would buy a CD and sit at home with the booklet and listen to the whole thing. As I’ve done myself for hundreds of hours. As a writer I LOVE the album. The fact that you have 45 minutes to create a journey and a world for the listener. And I still think about songwriting in terms of creating a journey.
But now of course fewer people listen to the whole thing. And we artists are constantly being told to make 30-second clips, or even better 15-second clips to catch people’s attention. Everything is about catching people’s attention. You have to be louder than the others.
And for me – as for many artists, I’m sure – that’s kind of the opposite of what I want my music to do. I want to give people a room where they can be calm and reflective.
I think that’s also what interests me in the stories I write now. They’re mostly about the things that are already right in front of me: family, relationships, the strange world we’re living in, getting older, and trying to stay truly connected to it all.
Like I did the last time I released an album, I wanna make a video where I play the whole album and talk between the songs. And take people through the whole journey in a hopefully entertaining way. An invitation to spend an hour with me instead of 15 seconds!
Has the way you write songs changed a lot over the years?
Everything has changed with having kids, I guess. When I was younger I literally had all the time in the world to think and to write songs. With kids in the house there’s always something to take care of, someone needs something, and someone’s always talking. (laughs)
So now it’s more fragmented. Half an hour here and half an hour there. That’s difficult, to be honest. Because songwriting essentially needs a lot of silence and space.
On the other hand, it’s probably made me better at recognising ideas, or choosing what I want to work on, and holding on to the ideas that move me, and happily throwing other ideas away.
When you look back on your career so far, which chapter do you remember most fondly, and why?
I have fond memories of my years in London when it was all about songwriting and touring. But at the same time I know that those were certainly not my happiest years. I was quite lonely a lot of the time. But I was on a mission! And as such it all felt very meaningful. And simple.
This was also before social media and smartphones took over. And I felt my mind could travel more freely and lightly in the world.
When you think back to your performances with Fester Kester, the first band you played in when you were 15, what is the very first thing that comes to your mind?
The first band I played in was actually called M.E.L. No one knew what these letters stood for!
We played a random selection of covers. Everything from Jimi Hendrix to straight-up blues and grunge. I remember our first show very vividly.
I had played a fair bit of theatre before then, so I was used to being on stage, but this was the first time I was on stage as myself – singing with my own voice. And it blew me away! When the music started playing and I started singing, wearing pyjamas and huge leather boots, I was IN THE MOMENT in a way I had never felt before.
It was a very powerful experience that I’ve been chasing ever since.
“I want to give people a room where they can be calm and reflective.”
You recently performed together with your husband and musical partner, Helgi Jónsson, at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival in Canada. What is it like sharing the stage with someone who is also such an important part of your personal life? Does performing together feel different from performing on your own?
Playing with Helgi – and singing with him! – is amazing. This is how our relationship started, the two of us playing music together, so we’ve always had that very special connection that I enjoy every time we go on stage. There’s no one else I would rather have by my side. Plus, he’s just so incredibly good at what he does.
Of course doing everything together is sometimes draining. Having a family, recording music, touring, holidays, everything!
It’d be nice to get a little solo break now and then. (laughs) But on the other hand, he understands every detail of what I’m doing and dealing with, and that’s amazing. So it really works for us.
I sometimes wish that Helgi would be more impressed with me, haha. Like, when I come off stage having just played in front of 15,000 people, I’m sure a non-musician boyfriend would say, “How do you do that!!?? You’re unbelievable!” But with Helgi, he’s been on the stage himself, so to him it’s not quite so wild.
You’re about to start your autumn tour in Germany and Austria, where you’ll be introducing songs from your new album. What are you looking forward to the most about being back on tour? And even after all these years of performing, do you still feel a certain kind of nervousness before going on stage?
This time I feel excited because I think I’m gonna try and rethink some stuff and do it differently. Helgi and I have been touring with a more theatrical concert these past few years, and it’s been great to think of a concert more like a story and a “piece”.
I’m not sure how yet, but I’m excited. Also, the concerts are where the new material stands the test – can I move people with these new songs? Can I make them feel why these songs needed to be written?
And can we meet in the songs and have the magical in-the-moment feeling together!!?
Nervousness grabs me at the most unexpected moments. Often out of the blue. So there’s no clear answer. I can play an arena and feel calm, and I can play to 50 people and suddenly feel terrified. This continues to puzzle me!
“Sometimes I feel like I can only really think while I’m writing. Writing simplifies everything.”
You’ve lived and worked in London and Copenhagen, and you’ve now made your home in Iceland for several years. How have the places you’ve lived shaped you as an artist, but also as a person? Were those moves always conscious decisions, or did you sometimes simply let life take you where it wanted?
I wouldn’t say they were all conscious decisions. I certainly never thought I would end up in Iceland! But yes, I knew I wanted to try living in an English-speaking country for my music, and I started to visit London at the beginning of my career to see if I could get something started there. I stayed in London for almost eight years – strange years of my life where music and songwriting were everything! I loved being anonymous there. I was famous in Denmark, but in London I could completely disappear.
When I moved back to Copenhagen, I wasn’t comfortable with the fame. I don’t need the attention in my everyday life. I like to feel like a small part of something bigger. That makes me feel good.
When Helgi and I became a couple and I started visiting Iceland, I instantly felt at home here. I feel like a small part of a huge landscape. Here I can disappear too.
That’s what inspires me. This is what I need to be able to write.
Several of your albums reached No. 1 on the Danish charts, and you’re considered one of Scandinavia’s most influential songwriters. What does success mean to you today?
That’s a good question, and I’ve wrestled endlessly with this in my career. I’ve never been good at celebrating successes. I’ve always been in a hurry to move on to the next thing.
And when I actually stop and look back, some pretty wild things have happened. Number one albums, huge tours, songs that have stayed with people for years, playing to 15,000 people in Copenhagen this spring. I mean, that’s incredible! I should be better at stopping and taking it in: “Wow, look what happened!”
But I’ve perhaps always worried a bit too much about the challenges in the future to be able to enjoy the successes in the now. “How is that TV performance gonna go two months from now?” “How should I approach this tour to make it awesome?” You never know how things are gonna go.
So success for me now is actually quite simple, now that you ask: can I enjoy it?
If I’m truly enjoying it, then it’s a MASSIVE MINDBLOWING SUCCESS. (laughs)
Besides family and music, what makes you really happy?
To write. Not just songs, but to sit down and put pen to paper.
In silence. Writing equals thinking for me. I think better when I write. Sometimes I feel like I can only really think while I’m writing. Writing simplifies everything.
