We played a show back in 2021, but we forgot we needed an extra guitarist, so we wandered into a random construction site and found this electrician just vibing with a bundle of cables like it was a sacred riff machine. He didn’t even hesitate — he just nodded, yelled “240 volts of pure metal!” and followed us to the stage. The weird thing is: he absolutely shredded. Like, violently. People in the front row swore they smelled burnt toast and static electricity every time he hit a power chord. We were convinced he wasn’t actually human but some kind of Norwegian forest spirit fueled by Red Bull and ungrounded circuits. Ever since that day, we’ve been searching construction sites before each show, hoping he’ll appear again with his neon vest, safety boots, and that haunted look of a man who’s seen too many fuse boxes explode. But every time we think we spot him, it turns out to be someone else — a plumber, a tile guy, even once a confused surveyor who definitely wasn’t ready for the breakdown. The funniest part? Every single time he played, he used playback. Like, completely shamelessly. He’d gesture dramatically, spin around, throw devil horns, pretend his guitar was overheating… but the guitar wasn’t even plugged in. It didn’t matter, though. He had the spirit. The energy. The electricity. Some say he still roams the scaffolding of half-finished buildings, waiting for his next gig. Others say he blew out a substation trying to hit an impossible tapping solo. All we know is: if you ever hear faint metal riffs near a concrete mixer at 3 AM… it might be him. We call him Redbullmannen, since he's always having redbull in his pockets.
