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Swedish House Mafia performing at the Rogers Centre in Toronto, Canada, last month during their "One Last Tour" that's captured in Leave the World Behind. Photo: Corbis

How Swedish House Mafia disbanded with a bang

When top electronic dance music trio Swedish House Mafia decided to break up, they filmed their final tour for a documentary, writes Chris Lee

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A certain fatigue had set in for the multiplatinum-selling electronic dance music (EDM) act Swedish House Mafia in 2012. By the three members' own estimate, they had partied hard five days a week for six years straight, consuming mass quantities of booze and chemical stimulation, living to the fullest the hedonistic lifestyle associated with superstar DJs while travelling the globe to deliver their signature four-on-the-floor dance delirium to packed arenas.

But just as EDM was becoming an increasingly mainstream concern - with the group selling out Madison Square Garden in nine-minutes flat and its smash single moving millions of copies to top pop charts around the world - Swedish House Mafia made a controversial decision: to call it quits at the peak of their success.

We felt, if we can't be 100 per cent dedicated and have 100 per cent pure energy for the music, we can't do it anymore
Sebastian ingrosso 

The concert documentary , which premiered at the recent South by Southwest film festival in Austin, Texas, chronicles the heady collision of interpersonal politics, money matters and block-rocking beats that came to define three Stockholm natives' final year together.

Steve Angello, Axel "Axwell" Hedfors and Sebastian Ingrosso left a lot of money on the table, choosing to break up after a five-year run in order to keep their friendship intact and their artistry unsullied by the bottom line. "We felt, if we can't be 100 per cent dedicated and have 100 per cent pure energy for the music, we can't do it anymore," Ingrosso says. "We said, 'Maybe we should call it a day.'"

Directed by Swedish House Mafia's creative director, Christian Larson, the documentary follows the group as they embark on their 2012 swansong: their "One Last Tour", 53 shows in 26 countries that sold one million tickets. Like any good rockumentary, the movie captures oceans of concertgoers in ecstatic reverie, the blur of travel - sold-out stadium madness from Mumbai to the Milton Keynes National Bowl in England, from Cape Town, South Africa, to the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival - while also chronicling the rise of EDM as a dominant force in pop music.

joins a small but growing number of electronic dance music-focused feature efforts including , the 2012 doc about LCD Soundsystem's final gig; , a concert film by electro music all-star Deadmau5; and the 2004 mockumentary . But unlike so many -style rock docs, is narrowly focused around Swedish House Mafia's "beginning of the end".

"For us, it's pretty weird when we see the film," Ingrosso says. "It's like seeing a wedding movie. Maybe a divorce movie. This is about three guys, who came from nothing in Sweden, who had a dream of DJing. Then the tsunami of electronic dance music shot over the entire world. The film is about that wave."

By all accounts, Larson was the only person for the job. He started out filming YouTube tour videos for Swedish House Mafia before graduating to directing clips for the group's hits, including The director had made a previous tour film about the trio in 2010 called and had become such an entrenched part of their entourage, Larson's camera-wielding presence had become a natural and expected component of going on the road.

"It's like having your uncle film Christmas," says Amy Thomson, Swedish House Mafia's manager, who also produced . "For us, it was never about people being able to understand the break-up: 'You did this', 'You did that.' To have a world tour, sell a million tickets, turn on the lights at the Empire State Building in the colours of the Swedish flag? You know what? We'll self-fund the film. That way, you know all the funny memories will be somewhere on tape," says Thomson.

Larson landed a US$1.2-million shooting budget and was given only one instruction. "They said, 'We don't want a film crew. Just you and your camera,'" the 28-year-old says. "I think they felt they needed me there. It was a lot of trust and for me, a big challenge. I was carrying around a crazy shoulder rig. I shot it and did sound myself, mixing it live with my left hand behind my back."

What began as a victory lap for Swedish House Mafia, however, turned into an exercise in introspection over the course of filming. vividly illustrates the self-doubt that necessarily accompanies dismantling a powerful band-as-brand that was operating, as Ingrosso puts it, "on a Michael Jackson level" in terms of money, fame and unbridled fan outpouring.

"It feels like we have been given the keys to the golden city," Axwell says in one scene aboard a private jet. "And we're just throwing it away." Adds Angello in another scene: "It's just become this big machine. A monster."

Drafting on the international renown of the South by Southwest music festival, where up-and-comers perform cheek by jowl with platinum-sanctified pop acts amid beer-y Texan bonhomie, the populist-leaning SXSW film festival was a natural venue in which to premiere .

From there, the film's producers have organised sold-out "premium screenings" in such cities as Los Angeles, New York, Amsterdam and Sydney before rolling out theatrically across Europe, Australia and Asia.

Just don't expect the members of Swedish House Mafia to show up at the premieres.

"We feel very positive about the movie," Ingrosso says. "But none of us will be there. It's gonna be weird if the first time we are back together is to premiere our break-up movie."

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: One long goodbye
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