Jaakko Eino Kalevi

His timbre is naturally sonorous, somewhat lethargic, and as our conversation unfolds it gets increasingly difficult to imagine him as someone other than a figure encountered in a dream. His sentences tend to drift unanchored around the meaning of his responses, and his laughter arrives at unexpected intervals. For a man who first came to attention with a debut EP entitled Dreamzone, I suppose I should have anticipated an enigmatic exchange.

With the release of his eponymous LP back in June, Kalevi’s particular blend of baroque pop has begun to enchant a global audience, and his upcoming tour of Australia is poised to be the first international tour stop of many. Yet regardless of the audience, it remains his fervent hope that listeners should not be distracted by his own intentions in songs; his music is a soundscape that each person should chart on their own.

“I kind of like [listeners] to be ignorant in a way. Not to be 100 per cent [sure]. I don’t like to explain too much. I don’t like to put quotes to my music, or other music as well. I kind of want them to be away from me, not so much me as them.”

It is not Kalevi’s music alone that audiences should approach with healthy ignorance; ideally, he would see most music stripped of biography. The background clutter – the real-world genesis of lyrics, the process of recording, his aspirations for what comes next – is ideally absent from the appreciation of a song. While he takes great time and care in crafting each dream-dappled track, it is the preoccupations of an unknown audience that will ultimately decide its fate.

“Sometimes it’s interesting [to know more], but usually it’s more fun to have your own meaning. I usually say that my music is experimental pop. Well… I think it’s a good start. It would interest me to check something like that out, and I guess eventually people would just hear the music and make up their own minds.”

It is a fine sentiment – after all, if we happen to not like a song, learning about the composer’s childhood is unlikely to change that. Still, Kalevi’s background is of interest, if only because of the unusual day job he found himself with while the music career was still in its fledgling days. As a tram driver in Helsinki, he was in an enviable position to chart the demographic of the city; piloting between the bustle of unknown lives, the intersection of characters and stories.

“I noticed the same thing,” he agrees. “I haven’t been doing it in a while – I had a break from the job around two years ago. It’s nice, and it gives you a good view into the city, into the people. So many different kinds. But there is nothing directly in my music that comes from there. No tram songs. It wasn’t at all an anxious job, just the opposite really. Quiet and easy. I could put on music and listen while I drive around. I was making music before as well. But, you know, you have to work sometimes.”

With his Australian tour kicking off on Friday (“Looking forward to Australia. I don’t really know. It seems like such a big and different world. I think it might be very English”), local audiences will get their first live opportunity to hear Kalevi’s world brought to life. Between vocals and dreamscapes, however, there is also the promise of his earliest musical love, the saxophone. As a self-taught player, it is a strangely eerie sound that he promises to demonstrate while in town.

“I played it and thought it was quite easy. Easy to get started, but to be very good at it takes time. It’s very hard. Often it’s very cheesy, and I like more… well, sometimes I like that cheesy sound too, but I usually like more raw sound. Sometimes if you can play saxophone too well, it doesn’t sound as good. But most people seem to enjoy that, but me not so much. I like sound that is raw.”

[Jaakko Eino Kalevi photo by Harley Weir]