A tale of music, friends and crayfish. 

It all started, like most good Swedish stories start, with a lot of snaps. 

I was finally able to travel back home to Sweden to see my family. It’s been tough not seeing them for two years due to the pandemic, especially my sister and I are very close, we talk on the phone all the time, so I was really looking forward to going back to see her. She was super excited that I was coming home and started planning all kinds of fun things for us to do. In Sweden, we have this tradition called “kräftskiva”, a crayfish feast – a gathering of food and drinks with friends and family, that marks the end of summer. The tradition began some hundred years ago when the crayfish harvest in Sweden was legally limited to late summer, to avoid overfishing. Today, it’s a much loved seasonal tradition where Swedes come together to eat and drink and be merry. Novelty party hats are mandatory, as are colourful tablecloths, bibs and paper lanterns. And of course, as with most Swedish parties, many increasingly silly songs are sung with the help of a homemade songbook throughout the day and night, made especially for the occasion. Like most Swedish social occasions, the celebration usually starts early in the day, and goes on until sunrise. Everyone is in a great mood, and food preparation is usually part of the fun. Everyone assists (with varying degrees of helpfulness), whilst merrily drinking beer, wine and snaps. The crayfish are boiled in salt water and seasoned with lots of homegrown dill. Then, around midday, the feasting begins. The crayfish are eaten cold with the fingers, and sucking noisily to extract the juices is perfectly acceptable behaviour. Slurping and messy eating is encouraged, henceforth the reason silly bibs are worn by even the most serious of patrons. Swedes love a buffet, and other comestibles commonly found on a crayfish table are crispbread, pies and mature cheeses, and a few different sauces that almost certainly boasts more dill.

Now back to the bubble tea story. My sister was excitedly planning things for my visit, and she knew it had been years, almost a decade, since I’d been to a crayfish party. So she reached out to some of her best friends, Mats and Anna, who live in a beautiful lake house in the forest, just outside Stockholm. She told them of my impending arrival, and casually suggested that, wouldn’t it be fun if they’d  host a crayfish party? It did not take long for them to happily oblige, And so, fast forward a few weeks and on a Sunny day in late August, I find myself on a train from my beloved hometown of Gothenburg, to a little town called Uppsala some 500 km away. 

My sister lives in England, so she was flying in from London a few hours after I had already arrived. But Mats and Anna, who I’d never met before, drove to the train station and picked me up like it was the most natural thing in the world. From the minute I jumped in the car, we laughed and joked and I felt as if I had known them forever. We got to their house and I spent some time strolling around the stunning landscape. Sweden could easily be the most beautiful country in the world when she lends her warmth on a sunny summer’s day. I sometimes forget how magical it can be. It makes you feel inspired. When my sister arrived, she threw herself out of the car and ran and gave me the biggest hug ever – It had been over two years since we saw each other. It was one of those days where just everything was perfect. We sat down at the table, and after a few snaps, I presented the crayfish hosts with some special gifts from Taiwan (insert name of traditional taiwanese gifts). I had also translated and hand-painted Mats and Anna’s names into Chinese characters, and presented them with these, alongside an explanation of the meaning behind the kanjis. These were so well-received that Anna went and framed them straight away and hung them up in their living room. I told them a lot about Taiwan and my life in Taipei, the story about how I ended up in Asia and how much I had connected with Taiwanese people and culture. I told them about my TV shows, and I had to promise to show them some clips. The snaps were flowing, the food was gradually diminishing and the merry people were getting merrier. Suddenly from one end of the table, my sister yells out that we should “play some of Mats and Ander’s hits!” Everyone around the table started clapping and clamouring, and I looked at Mats who was laughing. “Fine, fine!” he said grinning, and took charge of the stereo. As the first song came on loudly, I turned to Mats and laughed. “This is Discocrew!” I said. “Correction,” Mats said. “WE are Discocrew.” I hadn’t heard these songs in years, but boy did I remember them from years back. Back in the day, Discocrew had several hits in Sweden, and I had sung along to all of them at parties. Unbeknownst to me, I was now sitting at a table with the very band themselves. And that’s how, at midnight in a lakehouse in Sweden, we got talking about music. After singing along to their hits, I told them about my own musical journey. Ever since I was a kid, music has been part of my life and soul. My grandfather was a musician. He died just a few months before I was born, but I was always told that I took after him most of all. That’s where my middle name comes from – his name was Lennart. So music was always in my blood growing up, I actually attended the music programme in highschool, and I had several bands with friends growing up, in various genres. When I play music, I feel as if I can fully express myself. Playing the guitar, I feel the tones connecting my soul and heart. Most people know me as quite extroverted and loud, but truthfully I am quite shy. Only when I play music do I feel like the person I am on screen, like I can express myself fully. As I told Mats all this, he had been tapping lightly with his fingertips, almost with a melody forming. He was quiet for a while, then smiled one of his big signature smiles and said, “Martin. We are going to write a song together. The tones are going to be in Swedish, and the lyrics are going to be in Chinese!” We laughed for a bit, but I knew as soon as he said it that he meant it, and I loved the idea from the very first second. My sister was as excited as me, she is a writer and immediately started to think of lyrics. Mats brought his guitar out and we started jamming right there and then, the snaps doing a good job in aiding our creative juices. The tunes and melodies Mats played were distinctively Swedish, and myself and Joc started thinking of Taiwanese elements we could include. And that’s when Joc came up with the refrain – One, Two, Three, Ji Pai Bubble Tea. We had such a fun time jamming together that we didn’t notice the sun beginning to rise over the lake, not until it was almost daylight bright. That’s when we finally decided we all had to go to bed, but we promised we would hit the studio and record Bubble Tea the next day (or that same day, depending on how you look at it). After a few hours of sleep, we actually did. We got in the studio the day after the party and recorded the whole song. That evening, as I sat on the train back to Gothenburg and eventually the flight back to Taipei, I couldn’t stop smiling. I love the song and we had so much fun making it and recording it. I love that I am working with music again, and I love the fact that working with MADE IN SWEDEN, as we decided to call our music group, I get to present to the world my music identity through my Swedish roots and Taiwanse branches. My artist name is M.Tone, and I have so many songs I want to share with you. Bubble Tea is only the start. 

With Love,

M.Tone & Made in Sweden