A song about a rather inept yokel by the name of Börje (from Hishult, southern Halland, Sweden), sung in the local accent, is an unlikely track for me to develop a real fondness for. I blame it on exile. It makes you softer than you’d expect. It’s because, deep down, you miss all the ‘awfulness’.
But HishultaBörje isn’t awful. The tune is good old Swedish pop/rock, sung by Gunnar Bringman, who has a pleasant enough voice. And a heart-tugging sort of accent for someone with a past in Halmstad. Because I’m willing to bet that accent isn’t Hishult, but unadulterated Halmstad. Close enough.
Singing in a south Swedish accent came into fashion in the 1970s, but then it was mostly the Skåne accent of Hoola Bandoola Band. I think this is the only Halmstad accent song I’ve come across. Gyllene Tider don’t count.
The inept yokel is a careless driver, gets breath tested by the police, is not exactly a hit with the ladies, runs late, lives with his old mother, plays bingo, wins a forklift truck (!), speeds with the truck, is breath tested again, loses his license, has a heart attack and dies. Poor Börje.
The much repeated line of ‘fy fan va’ barnsligt’ (damn, that was childish) has some poetic charm. Really. And when poor Börje has finally died, the recording ends with Gunnar laughing and making a comment about it being a weird ending for a song.
Börje isn’t my cup of tea as a person, but the sad tale takes me down memory lane. And then there is that accent. One that I carefully removed as soon as I left town, but which still makes the heart beat fonder, or whatever cliché makes sense to use.
Have no knowledge about Gunnar. He may be local, but I’d never heard of him. My track turned up on a Halmstad CD collection, but the pirated downloads are all over the internet if you look. (I didn’t suggest that!)