By Antti-J. Janka-Murros

The first time I went to the Kaustinen Festival was in 2000, I think, when I was 17. It's also very vivid in my memory because, probably like many first-timers, the lack of abundance and the overall atmosphere of the festival hit me so hard that I can't name a single performer I went to see during that four-day visit. Something indefinable remained, however.

At that time, I had even a shameful lack of knowledge about folk music; shameful because my grandfather, Janka-Jussi, who was fondly remembered by many players, had, after all, been doing quite meaningful fieldwork on folk music for thirty years. I had nothing against folk music, I just didn't really take any notice of it. Then a series of coincidences followed, and in the summer of 2003 I found myself, for lack of something to do, putting in my application papers for the Lower Könni Academy, having received rejection letters from a few institutions. After a couple of years' break, the AKO had been relaunched and the line manager was Antti Kettusen come after Pauliina Syrjälä, the then Kauhanen. My sister had spent a year in Kaustinen in this way a few years earlier, and the aforementioned Kaustis- and a couple of subsequent visits to Folklandia had given me quite a pleasant impression of the folk music scene, so why not?

During these few years I had developed a taste for Irish traditional music and I thought that maybe I could play this kind of music, if I could find some like-minded friends in the year group. And they did. My roommate was a guy Sampo Korva and a month later, another interesting person moved in with us, who went by the name of Jimmy Träskelin. We found that we shared many of the same preferences, including David Lynchin production, a slightly wry sense of humour - and that Irish music. Jimmy's idea led us to make a very cross-artistic Christmas album, but more important was the material we jammed on during the recording breaks, which soon manifested as Them Three Leprachauns.

We made a self-release album, toured around, and by the summer of 2004 we were ready for our first festival tour. For a fledgling trio of amateurs, for one reason or another, we got a pretty tough gig schedule. It was a great gig, and it's still on the record shelf as a home-burning memory. The shock, however, was what it was like to return to Kaustinen after more than a month, this time for a festival. The quiet little village was suddenly bustling with tens of thousands of people, and I would argue that the particular brand of dark beer I had enjoyed so many times in Pelimann was just as suddenly inclined. I even felt a momentary sense of some irritation at how this ”our” village was now being taken over by completely different people. The feeling didn't last long, however.

That was almost 15 years ago. Since then, I've been going to festivals every year, the four-day first visit has become almost a rule for the whole week and the all-night stays have been replaced by at least slightly more relaxed family trips. Them Three Leprachauns were shipwrecked in 2006 but a few years later Jimmy and Sampo and I changed the genre, reviewed the sound and developed a new image throughout. The Worn Soles were born - new band, new songs, but the same guys. Sampo and Jimmy have been doing duo projects, each ending up on the horizon of the folk music scene, and I've been spinning more - and often less long-running - titles. Now a couple of bands that have been together for a couple of years are coming to festivals again, as are The Worn Soles, with whom we also retired to the recording studio after a 12-year break.

But the most personal project in a long time is the latest one: last autumn, Jimmy and I came up with the idea that we should maybe do a duo project too. The idea of a Pelimanni songbook with 8-bit Nintendo sounds was quite effectively shot down and the result was an excellent Pelimanni 8bit mobile game that was conceived as a side story a couple of weeks ago and became the main focus, but the music is exactly what it was originally intended to be. Whether the game's soundtrack will be available for separate distribution is still a work in progress, but I have to admit that twisting traditional game songs into stylish, three-note maximum bleeps has already been unusually fun. And there are extra songs ready to go, so the game will probably get a sequel some day. Next I'll have to start thinking about what would become of a duo project between Sampo and me...

Antti-J. Janka-Murros

The author is a folk musician, family man, double bass teacher and producer of the Siilifolk Festival, with a wicked sense of humour and a genuine penchant for developing projects.