The Hives: Diabolic scheme

Behind the Hives' cocky shtick is a hard-working band

By Mike Prevatt

There are two sides to Hives lead singer Howlin' Pelle Almqvist. You know one of them--the cocky, smarmy, march-stomping performer who is primarily the reason why his band is so revered for its live performances. The Hives perform a monster of a rock show, but it wouldn't be half as fun without Almqvist's glib braggadocio between numbers. Jay-Z and P. Diddy would piss themselves if they watched him in action.

The other side of him suggests his stage presence is purely shtick. Talking on the phone, he's calm, collected and articulate. He still speaks with confidence, but it's offset by a touch of humility. You might not know it from the boasts he offers onstage, but he and his band have worked tirelessly to get where they're at--especially when it comes to performing, a balancing act of projecting spontaneity, staying concentrated and having fun.

"It's hard--it looks like we're working hard at it," says Almqvist. "We've done it for such a long time. We're so tight, it's almost like, as people, we can almost hear the other guy's thoughts some time. I know that sounds new age, but it's true!"

Those instincts have served the Hives well. The Swedish quintet, who broke out globally three years ago with the alt-rock single "Hate To Say I Told You So," have consistently won best-live-act kudos from the music press and, evidenced by last year's Tyrannosaurus Hives, developed an artistic versatility that keeps its sonic identity intact while also displaying signs of growth and ambition.

While Tyrannosaurus emerged two years after the Hives' breakout album Veni, Vidi, Vicious was released in America, four years separate the studio sessions for those projects. The band knew that, for its next record, there would be a greater range of music it would seek to incorporate into its sound. However, for a band that has always stuck to the simplicity of the garage rock aesthetic, giving equal time to all its inspirations--including old R&B and new wave--while keeping the album's songs focused required quite a bit of effort.

"Making an album is really, really hard with us," says Almqvist. "We feel like shit all the way through making it. We don't just fart in the microphone a couple of times and have a laugh. It's way too important to us, and we care way too much about it while doing it. At the same time, it's rock `n' roll music. When you have anxiety and panic attacks over it for six months, you record it and it'll be tons of fun to play."

When "Hate To Say I Told You So" broke through, the Hives were lumped in with the Strokes, the White Stripes and the Vines as bands predicted to change the direction of modern rock and become huge. And while they did pave the way for indie-oriented bands to find success, only the White Stripes became commercially significant. Tyrannosaurus hasn't matched the sales of its predecessor, and its first single, the irresistible "Walk, Idiot, Walk," quickly dropped off the modern rock radio charts. Maintaining popularity has come harder for the band, though they seem unconcerned about it.

"I don't pay attention to how popular we are," says Almqvist. "I pay attention to how good our records are. When you [already] have your breakthrough record, it should be easier, shouldn't it? I think we're doing pretty well with this one, too. We make a record until we're happy with it, and then we go to play it to people. That's our extent of the deal. And then the record company basically sells the records."

That said, the Hives have always sought to create a musical antidote to the visionless, joyless dreck that has dominated modern rock radio since it started in 1993. Almost 12 years later, their task remains unfinished.

"Basically, rock music in America still sounds pretty much the same, that low baritone style of singing and whining about your upbringing," says Almqvist, with a laugh. "So, there's still work to be done."