The band members

Orkestermaskinen can only be as crazy as it’s band members

Some members come and go, but they are always in Orkestermaskinen’s heart.

Presented in alphabetical order:


No jazzband is complete without a fierceful diva on the stage; Alionka is all about that glam. Wielding a flute in solid silver, she simultaneously sports the lethal combo of getting her concrete factories back on track, being allergic to the Fabaceae family and nurturing her secret dream of becoming a kulturtant. Alijonka is chair of the economic association, and knows how to get down to business. You wanna make the cash flow? You ain’t getting nowhere with that grass mow – Alijånka’s gonna show you how to run the show, makin’ it rain as you drop it low!


Ok ladies, calm down! Coming straight from the 80’s, this saxomophone playing casanova blows red roses from his golden horn. Violets are blue, but who are you to resist the pomarańczowy smelling, chivalrous persona of Aplzn? With a firm background by colouring the red line, Aplzn’s savoir-faire handles everything from cutting a golonka to caressing the hair of beautiful women. Party in the back – business in the front ! Mjau !

Carlos Villaverd

Grandiose, spontaneous – a manic genius; when Carlos had entered the stage, nothing was ever the same! With a piano virtuoso’s unlimited knowledge of the fine arts, Carlos is bringing just the right amount of finkultur to the table. But don’t get mistaken by his sweet appearance. Carlos’ dubious contacts with the South American underworld makes it oh so clear: smärta är konstens pris! In the Swedish newspapers, Carlos has been described as a wandering performance art exhibition. However, that is clearly an euphémisme – Carlos is gargantuan and sans pitié! The world is his playground. Auctoritas non veritas facit legem.

Emma FTP

Small bodi, big voice. Has anybody missed the blonde trainwreck holding the mic? This glimmering nymph is most likely to be found in the bar with a gin and campari in each hand (or even better: mixed!) Due to popular demand, we will release the most certain way to Emma’s heart: be very young or very old, preferably dead, with the signed testament in your hand. Anyways, always the last to leave the party, there’s really just one way to describe this fucker: RIDE OR DIE !


As the rising star of Orkestermaskinen, 5a swirled onto the scene early summer of 2017. This sophisticated lady holds many specific interests including strong beer, a very healthy lifestyle and Soviet architecture. There is no smoke or drink in the whole of Poland that can stop this organic girl – nothing will bite! 5a brings a sincere air of Swedish folklore into the music; your heart will experience a sensational melancholy offbeat as the tiny hairs on your arms decide to take a dance break during 5a’s virtuose violin sessions. Enjoy!!!!


The Orkestermaskinen™ insane style-style definitely originates from inside the brain of Grotto – your problematic fave! You will soon realize that he is gifted with (dis-)associative super powers, being able to reinterpret reality in a way that far surpasses even the Age of Enlightenment or the most wicked dreams of Ken Kesey and his Merry Prankters. Grotto, the true Free Bird of the band, is keen to take it further. A famous Orkestermaskinen Trauma was when Grotto disappeared in the Kazimierz Kraków night. It’s really hard finding your way back from the suburbs, not knowing how to pronounce Polish writing (ł ę ą ó szcz ś ć ź ń … Jesus Christ …). Deepest thanks to the scared little boy letting him ride on the tuk tuk tourist-train home in the morning! Grotto embodies the true meaning of rumblr, and we do suggest that you take your time every morning saying your prayers that he is not your next door neighbour. Uwaga!!!


Put the Beluga caviar on the table and get redi for Kalashnikov Vodka shot race. From darkest parts of Soviet Russia, with musicality and a fine ear caliber, this Armenian beauty is always pushing the boundaries of the machine’s capacity. When he’s not writing notes or thinking about jazz, he probably frequents some suspicious neighbourhood looking for what local dish to try next. But wait a minute..? Nike shoes to the Adidas tracksuit?? Amerikański spy alert!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Dreamy, mysterious, always well dressed – there’s no doubt who’s both the poet and the fashionista of Orkestermaskinen. Indijański got his name from a grottfyllo in Wrocław who couldn’t see the difference between him and a Native American. Even though Indijański got some pretty serious tobacco start-up business going on, he is most likely to get in trouble with the Polish border police’s outdated views on gender identity (and “Fuck the police” has never had such delightfully queer undertones). Nie mówię po polsku ale smakuje jak zwierzęta!


Ever seen that Britney Spears video “Sometimes” and wondered what happened to that guy with the dog? He MUST have died and reincarnated to this perfect piece of man-ass also know as JöL! Not only good-looking hot mess, also strong and down for a ride – JöL carries all of your basses and then slices up a freshly picked mango for enjoyment. Ever wonder who Aljonka threw all that cash at? We can give you a hint that it starts with a J … and definitely ends with an öL. Skål!

Lex / Lars Katt / Downen Klet

Both brainz & looks – and always making sure everybody has eaten; Lex is the true Daddy of Orkestermaskinen. And honestly, who wouldn’t be down for adoption?? If it wasn’t for this man – fluent in the great Polish language – we would probably still be stuck somewhere between the zapiekanka joint at Plac Nowy and the WWII memorabilia stalls right next to it, arguing with the locals about the phonetic difference between “Fuck the police” and “Fuck the Polish”. Lars is not the one to let his friends sit with empty glasses. Party time? Your shot will be refilled with gin any second. Brunch time? Of course, Bloody Mary! But driving time??? Not even beer!!!!!!!!!!!


Those enlarged eyes and manic laughter wasn’t Satan welcoming you to hell, it was Maquarn offering you another Long Island iced tea -You’re alive! You’re still on the tour-bus! And you never have to worry about missing out again, Maquarn’s got your back in this world and in the next. You are never quite sure if this horse race is going to the end or beyond, let’s just say it’s an infinitive loop of indulgence. If there are rules he will brake them, if there is booze he will take it. But if -God forbid – Maquarn runs out of options the sad truth is you might find him at the nearest train station with his empty cup. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. PROSZE!??


Too new too nice too pure. Still need evaluation to get a proper introduction. But a virtuouse on the alt-sax, we know that much. Also doesn’t say no to a shot or five. And her name is ”Madicken” and she has a cute german accent. HIDE YOUR MAN/WOMAN/PERSON, everyone falls in love with this one!


Nobody knew that the Skarsgaard-family had another brother. MjöL likes to keep his stardom to the low and is now focusing on maximizing the beat behind the drums. Sometimes shitfaced but always well-paced, stationed at the biggest nuclear power plant in Northern Europe, MjöLner’s obsession with snuff and Duolingo will certainly not be a problem for the national security. Even though we’ve lately been tracing some serious daddy-style life choices (anyone up for a morning jog??), we are perfectly sure that this post-bop beat will keep the party going 4 ever.

Ostkaka/Cheese the cake

As soon as Orkestermaskinen’s latest recruit finished his last semester at Royal Highschool of Tecjnlogy everybody out there with dinosaurie-phobia can see a light in the tunnel. The project of developing best dinosaur traps is initiated and financed by His Majesty King Carl Gustav himself and will become a fundamental function in our society – Ostkaka is the right boy to do it! Busdriving helylle at day – Illegal club-organisator at night, nobody knows the true nature on this Gemini with a Trumpet. But according to scientific statistics, we DO know that nobody can outshine Ostkaka when it comes to heavy drinking and having a good time. Be warned!


Qnückarn: Hide your shoes, hide your finservis – problem-solving, banjo-enthusiasmic, Fucker Supreme™ – Qnückarn is a natural center piece member of the Orkestermaskinen ongoing partylife. The roof is going a little bit higher (and some parts are mysteriously gone missing) when you put the finest mixer on the table. Bring the cigars and put a punch-pocketbottle under the tuxedo – there’s only one way of surely knowing if the night is going in the right direction and that’s when Qnückarn’s eyes are not! Javisst !!


Like an angel from jazz heaven RöB rescued a badly wounded machinery from severe bass-loss symptoms. His ragged goatee says it all: RöB’s house is tucked away somewhere deep in the forests of West Sweden, far from any trace of civilization (and Stockholm). Whereas in no time at all, RöB placed himself in the center of Orkestermaskinens affection, we are still not sure whether it’s actually bass or heartbeat we hear on stage when the RöB starts pounding. Long story short: RöB = LöVE, and it IS possible to love somebody from a distance! Claiming Bockstensmannen heritage, RöB is a living legend, and from now on always holds a place of honor in Orkestermaskinen’s Hall of Flame.

Stormy Eye Haze / Lort-Hans

Hide yo wife hide yo kidz, this livin’ turbo legend is the center of every party chaos. With suit and shirt always on point, this mesmerizing synthesizer is the very backbone of the machinery. One hand on the keyboard, the other on Dagens Industri – corner of the mouth always reserved for dangerously sexi chainsmoking habits. Even though located in Hongkong, making business history on the bitcoin market, one question still remains: what hurt the most? When Benke fell from heaven or when he hit the floor?


You always need at least 3 drummers. Might be last but definitely not forgotten .arj always brings crazy rythm and whole lot of ÖS!