Peter Sandberg on the creative process, the journey to becoming great, and proper piano music

Peter Sandberg is, as his Spotify profile will tell you, a ‘little-known’ pianist, currently residing in the Swedish countryside with his family and approaching the release of his newest album, Temporary Coexistence of Humans. I sat down with him to discuss his upcoming album, a copy of which has made a welcome addition to my vinyl collection. In the process, I got more than I bargained for; I began to get to know a proper pianist and a proper artist.

Sandberg began his journey with the piano as most masters of the craft do, with long hours of practice and an attempt to become the next great classical pianist, ultimately deciding, however, to walk a different path. 

“I have this huge and biggest respect for classical pianists that actually make it work, and they have the patience and do the work to refine their art and just make it so it can’t be any better than that, and everything is perfect … This is not who I am, and I am certainly not perfect. So I can’t pretend that I am, and I just need to figure out my own path.” 

This was my first impression of Sandberg, and perhaps what endeared him to me: his rejection of the traditional hierarchy and rigours of his medium, fuelled by the knowledge that he had something all his own to offer the musical world. 

“When I was applying for music at the Royal Music College, I ended up on this, the second reserve, and the first reserve got in, so I was on the line, just waiting for that call. But it never happened. And that was – I’m so fortunate that that happened.” 

If more people followed his example, the world of creativity in any medium would be all the richer for it

Like Sandberg, I spent a good deal of my young life struggling to meet the standards of others, and maybe I’m projecting the ADHD chip on my shoulder, but the more I spoke to Sandberg, the more it became clear to me that if more people followed his example, the world of creativity in any medium would be all the richer for it. 

Sandberg does not limit himself to the simple label of rebelling against the traditional world, however: “rather than just being defiant and being rebellious over this classical music, which is so, so important and so developing, I think my journey has been a proof of that there is another path that you can follow.” There is remarkably little resentment from Sandberg against the world of piano; as would become a theme throughout our conversation, he is keen not to operate as binary and internalises his belief that “you can become a successful piano player anyway.” 

The second aspect of Sandberg I found hard not to like was his frankness; there was no attempt to glorify where he is now and how he got there. “It was a decade of practicing eight hours a day for a long time, and I was putting all my energy and all my focus into this pursuit of becoming this piano player.”  

There will be moments where you just lie on the floor crying and try to figure out what is the purpose of all of this

Peter Sandberg

There was no attempt to sweeten the path faced by up-and-coming artists in Sandberg’s eyes either: “It’s going to take time. It’s going to take blood, sweat and tears. And there will be moments where you just lie on the floor crying and try to figure out what the purpose of all of this is.” But Sandberg made it clear to me that he is living proof that this relentless pursuit of achievement and finding happiness are not mutually exclusive; you can build the life that’s right for you and achieve big dreams with massive amounts of work at the same time, just as he has.  

His years of practice didn’t end with his decision not to continue training as a classical pianist; through a chance encounter on a bus, Sandberg became a composer for music production companies and found many more years of practice, this time in creating music (sort of) his own. “That was when I started to be playful with my music and try to find new paths and new colours and so on. And I think since I was just working on briefs all the time, it was almost like I got paid to do, like, schoolwork.”  

Sandberg’s distinct lack of bullshit made him a refreshing interview; there was no need for elaborate shrouds around his process or motivations because they were simple and direct. As he plainly put it, “I make music to find peace.” Sandberg’s ADHD also contributes to his creative drive, as well as a desire not to get weighed down by life; this, in particular, has informed much of his upcoming album, Temporary Coexistence of Humans. 

“Just stop, relax, and look up – that’s the core essence of what I want people to realise with this album.” This is another quality of Sandberg’s work: the music he produces is a pure reflection of whatever he has to say, something I find is all too rare in the music industry of today. Sadly, I cannot say for sure that if Sandberg were to find himself at the level of notoriety he understandably wants, the powers that be of the musical world would not see him release material more appealing to the commercial line, but I feel I can say confidently that he would rail against any such efforts to dilute his control over what he creates. 

No one in Sweden knows who I am

Peter Sandberg

By no means am I attempting to glorify Sandberg as something he isn’t, which I think he’d absolutely hate. He’s human like the rest of us and wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he has the ambition to become more renowned in the world of music. “I was on a list of the top 100 streamed artists in Sweden, but no one in Sweden knows who I am.” As with many other elements of life, however, Sandberg is keen not to allow himself to fall into a certain category of known or unknown; he is also wary of the dangers of chasing notoriety. “I’m very cautious about feeling resentment—that is a slippery slope, and it will turn sour very quickly.” The Swede clearly has no illusions about the joys of the life he has created with his family in the Swedish countryside: “I’ve been fairly easy about it, I have this great success and I’m providing for my family and we have this wonderful life, maybe it doesn’t matter that no one knows who I am, but of course there is a part of me that feels that it would be great for people to acknowledge me for who I am” 

Sandberg’s desire for a slice of the limelight is perfectly understandable, especially as someone regularly streamed over a million times a month on Spotify alone. But I never heard even a trace of anger or booming declaration of his own brilliance and drive; in a very Sandberg way, he told me casually at the end of our discussion: “There is a little part of every artist that has their ego, they really want to shine.” 

I worry that someone reading this would be expecting my crescendo to be a denunciation of anyone mainstream, to tell why Peter Sandberg is a real musician, and Sabrina Carpenter isn’t. The first issue of this is the standards and measures of women in the music industry, which would be alien to anyone from Sandberg to Harry Styles. You would be hard-pressed to find a musician truly deserving of their status in the industry who hasn’t worked as hard and does not possess the same kind of “creative tank” as Sandberg describes. But few have made the creative life work, and fewer still who have created something unique which totally reflects a simple observation of life, and fewer still who have done both.