The Knife's latest album, "Shaking The Habitual" ((A quote from Michel Foucault: “The work of an intellectual is not to mould the political will of others; it is, through the analyses that he does in his own field, to re-examine evidence and assumptions, to shake up habitual ways of working and thinking, to dissipate conventional familiarities, to re-evaluate rules and institutions and to participate in the formation of a political will (where he has his role as citizen to play).”)), is not one of my favourites. Time will, however, prove me something different. It reminds me of Jean-Michel Jarre's trip to China, feminist ideas and a left-wing way of thinking, politically speaking. In short, it's very appealing. Still, it's a hard listen for me; I've struggled to think of when to properly hear it. The first single, as should be, betrayed the contents of the album as a whole; it's not a let's-go-down-Tresor wallow but a thought-through expedition into music.

The concert merely brought the album to different levels. If I were to grade the gig, I'd say 9 out of 10. Easy peasy, bitches.

First of all, they made the Stockholmians go to Alby, a tiny suburb just a stone's throw from where I grew up.

I can't believe I'll get to see My Bloody Valentine in a week, at Primavera Sound.

Regular Stockholm scenery. A minor decoration.

I won't even go into the start of it all, from before The Knife got on stage; there was a calypso band and ÖFA-kollektivet.

What about the band, Niklas?

Well, there was no band. I mean, there was. All of the members onstage did stuff. They took turns at dancing, singing, playing instruments and acting. Performers, one and all. It was a collective effort, a gender-enthused group that pushed both individualism and group thinking at once, to the beat of music that might as well have come from Jarre's expedition to China in the early 1980s or from Tresor.

I haven't had this much fun before a main event, or during one, for quite some time. I always tend to see artists that bring something to the table, artists that I love, even, but this brought everything together without becoming overwhelming or pretentious.

It was playful. No gender. No instrument masturbation. During most of "Full of Fire" the audience was watched or waited for, which was a brilliant device:

The band sold feminist literature as part of their merch stand.

And we danced. By Bog, we danced.

After the gig there was a trek back to the subway station and back home.

The Knife has just shown the way for a lot of people, I think. I'd have loved for this to have been my first gig.

Ps. There's a very interesting interview with The Knife in The Quietus right here.