A dirty music industry gets its ears fluttering on Ida Maria Sivertsen’s (36) new record. Then she attacks herself.
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– I was offended, and he was offended.
Ida Maria Børli Sivertsen has just moved to Los Angeles. The year is 2011, and the radio host she rents from has been out at sea fishing. With a chartered yacht and skipper, he has got a whole box of fish. Small fish. This is how fish on Helgeland are usually given to the cat.
– Then he stands there on the stairs, proud as just that, and explains to me how I can grill this bony fish, says Ida Maria, and laughs so it resonates in the barn wall.
– But then, where I come from, no one goes to the neighbor and gives them a bag of small fish, she says with a firm face.
The first encounter with American everyday courtesy was to be one of many crashes for the northern Norwegian punk rocker. Now she’s settling the bill. House cleaning and animal-bought experiences are cleaned up.
For Sivertsen needs to settle down before she steps over the threshold for the rest of her life.
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