Artist Spotlight: Meet Simeon Kirkegaard
Can you share any interesting or unique stories or perspectives in '*(Asterisk)?'
Absolutely. ‘Asterisk’ was written and recorded over a span of 10 years across different phases of my life — from bedrooms in rural Norway to studios in Dublin and the Irish countryside. The process actually started back in 2014 at Westland Studios in Dublin, a legendary place that sadly no longer exists. Alwyn Walker was the engineer and co-producer in those early sessions. The studio had this incredible SSL desk — the sound was just stunning. Some amazing albums had been made there, and I’m really glad we got to capture part of Asterisk in that space before it closed.
Later, a lot of the album came together at Orphan Studio with Gavin Glass, who helped me finish it. We also recorded the strings and choir with Fiachra Trench at The Meadow in County Wicklow. He’s worked with artists from Paul McCartney to Hans Zimmer, and having him on board brought this beautiful legacy and depth to the arrangements.
The album feels like a kind of emotional archaeology — going from who I was at 30 to who I became by 40. That’s a long stretch of life. A lot happens. And I think you can hear that transformation in the songs.
What did you enjoy most about making this album?
Working with so many great people — especially the string and choir sessions — was a highlight. My first album was mostly just me playing everything, but Asterisk ended up involving more than 50 musicians. Funny enough, I ended up back where I started by recording a few of the final tracks alone — like “Black Dog” and “Taken By You.” So it kind of came full circle.
At one point, around 2018, I wasn’t sure I’d ever finish the album. I got sidetracked with a song called “Dead Drop Love,” which ended up becoming a short film musical. I worked with the Brno Philharmonic on that, and it did really well. But I was exhausted and had kind of lost the lust for making music.
Years later — around 2022 — I picked the album back up and realized I needed to finish it. It sounded too good not to. I brought in Gavin Glass, who’s a great producer and musician in Ireland, and he told me bluntly that I needed to rewrite a bunch of the lyrics. And he was right.
In 2024, I started mixing it with Benny Steele in LA. We did it one track at a time, over the course of about a year. When the final mixes were signed off, it was a pretty incredible feeling — finally seeing it through after all that time.
Can you talk about any standout tracks on the album and what makes them special to you?
“Here I Stand” is probably the emotional centerpiece — and it was the last song I wrote. I think it was the missing piece. It’s very stripped back: drums, bass, a few guitars. The bass is actually played by Corey Britz (Bush), and drums by Nate Barnes — both great American musicians.
Another one I’d highlight is “Wave After Wave.” If a proper singer — which I don’t consider myself to be — performed it live with a full orchestra and choir, I think it could be something truly special. It feels very cinematic and soundtrack-like.
Can you tell us more about you as an artist?
I’m a Norwegian artist currently based in Dublin, though I travel back and forth to Norway quite a bit. My background is in both music and architecture, and I think that shapes how I approach songwriting — through layering, spatial awareness, light, and contrast. My music blends organic instrumentation with melodic, often nostalgic pop — think Beach Boys and that era of songwriting.
I also run a small independent label called Giggermusic, which has released a lot of Norwegian music over the years.
How do you approach collaborations with other musicians and maintain creative synergy?
I like to hear people play or sing first — to understand their strengths and figure out where their talents can really shine. I’m not overly rigid unless it’s something like the strings or choir, which are more fully arranged.
In general, I like giving collaborators space to interpret things in their own way. I’ve found that when people feel ownership and freedom, the results are always stronger. This whole album was kind of a patchwork built from trial and error — long nights, quiet sessions, late emails — just moving things around until it clicked.
