The day before I got engaged, Avicii died. My girlfriend (now fiancée) and I were in Copenhagen over the weekend in order to celebrate our ninth anniversary by getting engaged. We both took Tim Bergling’s passing surprisingly hard. I’ve never listened to his stuff much. I mean, I’ve heard his songs on the radio and I’ve certainly enjoyed most of his stuff – I vividly remember hearing Levels for the first time and being blown away by the loop as well as the vocal sampling – but that’s about it. Nonetheless, my sadness over this stranger’s death was present the whole weekend; a constant contrast to the happiness and love that also filled me. When we got home to Stockholm we watched the documentary Avicii: True Stories, which was a very painful experience. My heart is aching the way it did when I had watched Amy.
Scenes that have stuck with me: Tim’s in a bus talking to some guy about how he’s realized that he’s introvert and that this discovery is a key in understanding himself. The guy asks no questions (!) about this and just looks like he wants the boring conversation to end as quickly as possible; a day after being treated in the hospital, Tim’s in a car with his tour manager. While Tim has the exhausted expression of someone who’s about to collapse any second, his tour manager asks him to do a couple of phone interviews in two hours to let people know he’s “back on track”; Tim trying to postpone entering the stage for his last show by constantly bringing up new subjects to talk about backstage; how there are hardly any women present in this documentary; the final, peaceful scene where Tim’s playing the guitar on the beach.
Tim Bergling was born in 1989, just like me and my girlfriend. I believe this is why his death affected us so much. Someone exactly my age who should experience all the things life still holds for us but now won’t. Someone’s parents who won’t see their kid become an adult like my dad will see me. Someone who just wanted people to listen and understand.
For the first time, I’ve actively listened to Avicii’s music this past week. I like it much more now that he’s gone, sadly. It holds a deeper meaning now, the way music tends to do after the musician’s passing. I wish we could turn back time to when it was just “some DJ stuff” to me. I wish Tim would create new songs that I would hear on the radio every now and then and that would be it. Most of all I wish men in general weren’t afraid to talk about feelings and actually knew how to handle a friend who brings up a difficult subject. But here we are. Present time. I’m sorry if you felt like this was the best way to find peace, Tim. You will be missed by many.