A significant part of Finland’s best popular music has always come from outside the Helsinki metropolitan area. In the 2020s, the voices of the regions remain strong, especially in the indie music scene.
To explore this, two prolific and acclaimed artists share their thoughts on the identity and background they bring as musicians from beyond the Kehä III area.
Litku Klemetti and Mikko Siltanen discuss these themes at Restaurant Telakka in Tampere, a venue often regarded as a hub for regional indie music.
When I started planning this piece, I leaned on the idea that there’s a phenomenon in Finland’s music scene often referred to as “regional indie.” Being from Rovaniemi myself, I eventually realized that most of my favorite Finnish artists come from outside the largest cities. This holds true for the heroes of my youth, like CMX, Ismo Alanko, and Kauko Röyhkä, as well as for the less mainstream acts of the 2000s who have built careers within their means—whether through independent record labels or even self-releases.
I set out to explore whether “regional indie” is truly a phenomenon and how musicians associated with it perceive the concept. At the same time, it seemed like a good opportunity to gain insight into the creation of Finnish alternative rock music today more broadly.
For this, I interviewed Sanna Klemetti and Mikko Siltanen. Known by her stage name Litku Klemetti, Klemetti is arguably the artist most closely associated with this genre, thanks to her popularity and critical acclaim. Siltanen, on the other hand, is a key figure in several highly praised bands, including Räjäyttäjät, Talmud Beach, Amuri, and Rock Siltanen Group.
We meet Klemetti and Siltanen at Telakka, a cultural hotspot in Tampere. The location is practical: Klemetti, who lives in the rural village of Luhanka near Lake Päijänne, is in town to film a music video, while Siltanen has been a Tampere resident for years. Telakka, with its red-brick charm, is a well-known hub for theater and alternative music and a fitting setting for exploring the idea of regional indie. It frequently hosts intimate gigs, and Siltanen mentions that he likely plays there with his bands more than anywhere else.
But does regional indie really exist? Let’s ask our interviewees. And if it does, what role do you see yourselves playing in it?
“I’m such a die-hard provincial person that I can’t think of it from the perspective of the capital region as some sort of phenomenon,” Sanna Klemetti chuckles. “I’ve encountered being labeled as part of that, though. I do recognize that sometimes I draw inspiration from the less urban side of things. But sometimes I don’t. That definition kind of sounds a bit Helsinki-centric.”
“But we have the most fans in Helsinki. That’s just because of the city’s size. Generally, I think a lot of people see our music as hipster music, not hillbilly music, but maybe those ideas get mixed up here.”
Have you noticed any opposition between those from Helsinki and those from other places?
“I haven’t noticed any arrogant attitude in our indie bubble. But I don’t really know many people. It’s hard to say what they think in Helsinki,” Klemetti laughs.
Mikko Siltanen is from Jyväskylä and now lives in Tampere. Does that background contribute to his sense of regional identity?
“Well, I’ve always lived in the city center, in pretty big cities,” he says, but admits that he recognizes the concept from social media discussions.
“I don’t live in Helsinki, and I make some form of indie music,” he sums up his connection to regional indie.
And your bands have the biggest audience in Helsinki too?
“It definitely exists in Helsinki since it’s the biggest city, but Tampere has it too. There’s a lot of live music activity here compared to many other places.”
Regional indie can be anything, but it’s certainly possible to bring it to the big cities. Many music listeners crave the experience of something that comes from somewhere else. It could be the mythical USA, or why not Sanna Klemetti’s hometown of Kuhmo.
Typically, both an artist’s and a listener’s taste parameters are shaped in their early years. That’s why it’s relevant to ask about Klemetti’s and Siltanen’s musical roots. What did they listen to during their formative years—foreign or domestic music?
“Both,” Klemetti says. “As a child, I liked schlager music: Virve Rostin, Mona Carita. As a teenager, I got into prog rock, British 60s and 70s, all the classics. In my twenties, I started exploring new territories. Everything began to interest me.”
And do you have any relationship with Finnish rock?
“There’s a very strong connection all the way back to my childhood. Perhaps that provincial indie on our early albums [Litku Klemetti & Tuntematon Numero: Horror ’15 and the solo debut Juna Kainuuseen] draws from what was played at home: Hassisen Kone and Eppu Normaali.”
Do you feel like you’re part of this Finnish rock tradition?
“Probably, it came back to that, searching for those roots. But on different albums, you can still go in different directions.”
What about Siltanen? He came into the public eye through the band Räjäyttäjät, whose original style—rough rock ‘n’ roll—was not often performed in Finnish.”
“Probably the first influences were Finnish,” he recalls. “Dingo when I was very young, Hurriganes a lot through my dad. All sorts of heavy stuff in between, and older records from my dad’s collection: Hendrix, Zeppelin. There were Finnish artists too, like Nurmio and Juice.
“Overall, I’d say my Finnish-foreign influences are about fifty-fifty.”
2000s Finnish indie music was primarily made in English, often mimicking international influences. Nowadays, the balance has shifted in favor of Finnish. How important do you, as songwriters, consider creating music in Finnish?
“Right now, as we’re working on a new album with Räjäyttäjät, about 60% of it is in English,” Siltanen points out. “We also have an English member [drummer Alex Reed]. But Finnish is definitely the easiest language for self-expression. I do like English too; it can sound clumsy in a good way. Finnish isn’t an absolute for me, I’m not a great poet or linguistically superior.”
On Litku Klemetti’s albums, there are quite ambitious lyrics that clearly venture into literary territory.
What is Sanna Klemet’s relationship with the Finnish language?
“At least when Litku was born, I thought it would be very text-focused, with simple music and narrative lyrics. I wanted there to be funny things and details in them.”
“It was definitely important to make music in Finnish at that time. My previous band, Zorse, made music in English, but I’m not very good with other languages, so I gave up on that.”
When Litku started, did you think performing in Finnish was the norm or an exception in indie circles?
“Well, we started in 2015, and by then, there was probably already more music in Finnish. I do recognize that in the early 2000s, almost everything was in English.”
Siltanen has a rock and metal background, which strongly points toward English. When I mention early influences in relation to the language question, I bring up Hurriganes, and that leads to quite a burst of laughter. In theory, Hurriganes’ songs are in English, but…
“I didn’t think about it deeply,” Siltanen says. “What fascinates me about Hurriganes is the nonsense, the way the language works. I really enjoy Finnish lyrics that make no sense. I admire lyricists who can do that. Even though Kuusumun Profeetta has great lyrics, they don’t always tell a story. They have images that don’t necessarily connect with each other, but they work with the music. It would be great to be able to write like that myself.”
“In Finland, rock music has often been led by the lyrics, with the great geniuses leading the way.”
Jyväskylä. It’s one of those cities that regional indie is undoubtedly associated with. Siltanen is from there, and Klemetti moved there to study, spending several years before moving to the countryside.
I have the impression of a distinctive music and cultural hub, but how have you experienced Jyväskylä?
“It’s both discouraging and inspiring,” Siltanen describes. “It’s a nice city, with a lot of young people. When I lived there, there were many venues that no longer exist. But it was also a place heavily saturated with metal, it came from every direction. Niskalaukaus, Kotiteollisuus, and everything else felt special in its own way.
“But you could organize gigs there, and at the university, I met people I could play with. Jukka and Alex [Räjäyttäjien’s Nousiainen and Reed] studied musicology, and I studied Finnish history. Gradually, there was all this art-related chaos happening.”
“I moved to Jyväskylä in 2007,” Klemetti recalls. “It was the first big city I ever lived in, and still the only one. I went to the conservatory, which felt like a really difficult environment. Then, in 2009, I also went to the university to study musicology. We would sit at Vakiopaine bar, and there were all kinds of bands.”
“Then it got to the point where we already had our own record label, Luova Records. We organized a lot of events… I was also involved in the cultural association Hear Ry for several years, just like Jukka Nousiainen. There was this huge desire to be part of a DIY culture, and there was a lot of it. Suddenly, we realized that we were the ‘doers.’ But then, the pandemic kind of killed that vibe, and people moved away.”
Are there many culturally supportive towns in Finland on a political level? One such place could be found near the eastern border.
“Kuhmo markets itself as a town of nature and culture,” says Klemetti.
“There are chamber music festivals, a beautiful concert hall. They’ve invested a lot in culture, and it’s still being promoted there.”
What was the cultural environment like when it was growing up?
“Well, there was a music college, a music high school. It suited me; I’ve been passionate about music since I was a child, and Kuhmo was a good environment for that.”
Is being from Kainuu part of your identity?
“It’s very strong. During my studies and then through Litku, I got it back for myself. It wasn’t all easy in Kainuu, though. But there’s a clear identity.”
This is perhaps most evident on the Juna Kainuuseen album, which in 2017 was somewhat of a breakthrough for you?
“Yeah, it’s kind of a homecoming or hometown album.”
What about Mikko Siltanen’s need to write songs related to “his” places?
“Yeah, yeah. For example, I wrote the song Laajavuori for Räjäyttäjät. When you move away from a place like Jyväskylä, you probably end up more nostalgic and romantic about the beauty that was there.”
Let’s talk a bit about venues. What kind of places do you play your music? Well, for example, here at Telakka or the previously mentioned Vakiopaine, but more generally. Is regional indie played in the provinces?
“Next spring, with Jukka Nousiainen and Arttu Seppänen, we’ll be doing the Maakuntailmiö tour,” Sanna Klemetti reveals. “We got a grant for it, and we’ll be playing in village halls in the provinces. It’s romantic, going to those small towns and places where bands used to play. When I was young, even in Kuhmo, all sorts of bands would play at the village hall. I saw Tehosekoitin perform there when I was in sixth grade.”
It’s probably symptomatic that without the grant, that wouldn’t happen either.
“It wouldn’t have happened. We tried to arrange it for two years, and last spring we finally got the funding.”
“My expectations for venues are at zero,” Mikko Siltanen says. “I’m not expecting to play at the Olympic Stadium. I do have ambition, but not like that… I’ve played in all sorts of places, so it’s pretty much the same every time.”
“But the idea behind this kind of music keeps it alive—that there’s no pressure for it to grow,” Klemetti points out.
“Yeah, I realized a long time ago that this has to make sense for myself,” Siltanen agrees.
There is, however, a sort of Finnish rock meme that bands eventually burn out when constantly touring the same venues becomes exhausting.
“Well, we took a break from gigging for more than six months, maybe also because we’ve done so many gigs in the same places since 2015,” Klemetti says.
“Talmud Beach played abroad a bit, and it was refreshing,” Siltanen admits. “In Finland, we’ve pretty much played all the venues. But I just really enjoy playing, no matter what. Even though I don’t play as much now as before, and back then it wasn’t hundreds of gigs a year either. This current pace feels just right.”
“When we played gigs with Liisa Akimof, it was a nice new experience for me: playing in a backing band. The reception was successful and different from what I was used to.”
The interview is almost over. Just a few words about your current projects. Sanna, you’re releasing the Funny Girl album in October. You called it a pop album, but from the name, one might guess that, like some of your previous works, it might have a character theme or role?
“I was working on an album called Litku Euroviisut last fall, but it didn’t come together. Then I decided, no more of this vintage stuff! We’ve been criticized a lot for that. I thought, let’s make something futuristic instead.”
Well, did you?
“This isn’t exactly futuristic, but it’s definitely not vintage!” Klemetti explains enthusiastically. “I’ve been vibing with Charli XCX, someone I used to think wasn’t my thing at all. The band plays on this album too. It’s a fun record, maybe even wild, a bit nastier. More outward-facing. We tuned the songs a lot. It was fun working on the production with Pekka [her partner and collaborator] in our home studio.”
What about Siltanen?
“We’re trying to finish recording the Räjäyttäjien album. Jukka and I have also written some English songs for it. It’s not going to be a very commercially-oriented record; it’s going to be long and chaotic.”
“And the Rock Siltanen Group will be releasing a dark album sometime next year… possibly dark!”