Agnes’ Day

Listening to ‘The Christmas Song’, Agnes Obel’s deeply atmospheric yuletide collaboration with Tom Smith, the image that comes to mind is of the Danish singer and the Editors man sitting around a cosy hearth, possibly wearing ridiculous stripy jumpers and roasting chestnuts. So it’s bah-humbugs all round as Hot Press discovers that not only did the duo never snuggle under the mistletoe – they haven’t even clapped eyes on each other! Next you’ll be telling us there’s no Santa, Agnes.

“I know... I know... it’s true. We never met,” she laughs (Obel refuses to be drawn on Santa Claus, even though as a Scandinavian you’d think she’d have the inside track). “I didn’t know him at all. We had some email contacts. That was it.”
The tune is a highlight of Funny Looking Angels, the surprisingly sweet Christmas hook-up between Smith and Andy Burrows, the Razorlight songwriter you didn’t want to kick in the face.
“They got in contact online and described the song. I recorded my vocals at home, then Tom put some piano on top. I was in Berlin the whole time. Still, it was fun to do.”
Were it any other year, the Obel-Smith hook-up would have constituted our favourite piece of sonic tinsel. But there’s some tough competition out there. Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward have put out a Christmas record (though we’re inclined to dismiss it on account of what they did to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’), as have Emmy the Great & Tim Wheeler, Kate Bush and Michael Bublé. Does the deluge of Xmas-related music make Obel feel all warm and gooey inside? Or does she want to heave like someone who’s polished off an entire selection box in one sitting?
“You know, I’m not a very Christmassy person,” she confesses. “On the other hand, I like traditions. It’s important we have events like this, celebrations to remind us there’s more than our modern way of living.”
Smith and Burrows were lucky they caught Obel on one of those rare weeks she was at home. With her dulcet debut album Philharmonics a number one across the continent, it’s been a whirlwind year for the German-based Copenhagen native. She was feted as Björk’s heir at the South By South West festival in March, topped the charts in France shortly afterwards and has been playing to packed rooms ever since. Sometimes, she admits to wondering what day it is and what country she’s in.
“It’s been a blur. It doesn’t feel like a whole year. When you’re touring, the first thing that goes out the window is your sense of time. I have no feeling really as to how long has passed. I’ve been on tour for 15 months with a few breaks in between. It’s just flashed past.”
For most of that period, the pain of being away from home was blunted by the presence at her side of her long-term boyfriend. But now he’s back in Berlin completing his first animated movie, making her feel she is truly on her own for the first time. It’s just as well she’s got something with which to occupy her lonely moments, namely working on material for her next record.
“I’m all the time thinking about it. I’ve performed new songs during the shows and am always adding more. I’m at that nice stage where I can plan ahead and have all these grand ambitions and be completely unrealistic about everything.”
Obel used to play guitar in Copenhagen’s answer to Radiohead (actually, they were Copenhagen’s answer to a shit Radiohead, which is why you’ve never heard of them). Tensions over who got to write the songs led her to quit and, shortly afterwards, she decamped to Berlin. Her reasons for leaving were varied, though there was certainly an element of practicality to the decision.
“I would love to tell you it has nothing to do with rent, that it was entirely an artistic decision. The truth is that Alex and I were living in a really small space in Copenhagen and we wanted to try somewhere else. I was getting more and more curious. I was eager to live somewhere different from where I grew up, where I didn’t know everyone. I still feel ‘new’ in Berlin. There are areas I don’t know, German is not my first language. I can actually get lost.”
Obel adores Denmark and is proud to be from Copenhagen. Still, she feels the city can wrap its citizens in a comfort blanket, so that they have nothing to lash out against. The Scandinavian welfare model may make for societal calm – but it doesn’t exactly inspire rollicking pop music. She laughs when Aqua is brought up, saying that people in Denmark have no idea ‘Barbie Girl’ is their best-known musical export.
“It can get too pleasant, almost,” says Agnes. “It’s very safe, and very nice. People will take care of you. It’s almost like a pillow that can make you fall asleep.”
Naturally shy, Obel admits the spotlight has taken some getting used to. There are still moments when she steps before a crowded room and is seized by the urge to run for the wings. What’s changed is that she’s getting better at calmly setting her nerves to one side and getting on with things.
“I don’t feel I’ve really gotten used to walking into a place where all these strangers know who you are. It feels very unnatural and weird. Fortunately, I think I’m lucky in that people tend to focus on the music rather than me. Hopefully that’s how it will stay.”

Agnes Obel plays Vicar St., Dublin on December 10 as part of a four-date Irish tour. Philharmonics is out now on PIAS Recordings