Kotiteollisuus
The most relentless Ilosaarirock festival goers might remember Kotiteollisuus's performance at the said festival 10 years ago. The pouring rain that slashed the Saturday afternoon drove rock n' rollers in to the hot and sweaty Third Stage tent. There were three ugly south Karelian men on the stage, armed with a sturdy sound. The bald-headed singer, Jouni Hynynen, punished the crowd with crude verses about endless frost. The rain accelerated, the band turned nastier. After one of the songs, the singer said, with a wry grin: "We asked for thunder too."
In ten years, many things have changed. Small tents have become large stages, the singer has developed a considerable growth of facial hair, and the orchestra itself has become a concept. The essence of their music, however, is still the same. Unwavering riffs, ruthless drumming, and singing that ranges from soft murmur to blood-curdling cry – this recipe has carried Kotiteollisuus until their tenth studio album now. Year after year, they serve a stubborn and crude, yet touching package, whose point of departure is clear without any extra hype about lad culture with which the Finnish media would so eagerly brand the band's frontman.
"We are Kotiteollisuus, and we don't know why", noted Hynynen in the summer of 1999. Nowadays at least the audience knows why. Cynics say that the band keeps playing the same song year in, year out. So what? The TV news don't need to question their concept either. What counts is the truth in the message.
