Dinner Cup

Songs about ‘girls, destruction, and the divine feminine’. The sound of euro-ice, LA-warmth and chaos magic. Meet our friend Dinner – ON A CUP.

Dinner is the sound of L.A. and Scandinavia superimposed. Dinner sings de-frosted Nico-esque popsongs about ‘demons’, ‘sigils’ and ‘love’. Dinner loves to dance...” Admittedly, our friend’s physical appearance seems like quite the North European cliché: he’s thin, blue-eyed, polite and speaks with an accent that sounds like something in between a villain from a WWIImovie and Swedish aristocracy. How to describe Dinner’s music? Icy traces of Joy Division and echoes of Nico-ish phrasing come together with Eno-esque melody-lines and occasional kraut-like motifs, and together form a framework within which Dinner’s chanting voice, minimalistic pop-melodies and somwhat wobbly productions can coexist. But underneath Dinner’s apparently cold surface there’s an uncanny
warmth. Dinner’s interest in the occult is summing up an image we can draw.

Why is Dinner on a cup? We are supposed to drink out of his head. A way to get closer, a way to infiltrate his existence. The existence of a new pop ritual.