“It was never really my plan. I think I was running after an idea of happiness that wasn’t my own,” confesses 28-year-old Swedish artist Tim Bergling with an air of disillusion.

Central to a new documentary about his life experiences, these words may come as a surprise to millions around the world who know him by his superstar DJ alias Avicii.

Avicii: True Stories draws upon extensive fly-on-the-wall footage to chronicle eight years of life on the road, with Bergling himself personifying electronic dance music’s rise to global pop culture prominence.

Shunning a straightforward tale of success, film director Levan Tsikurishvili has presented a narrative focusing on Bergling’s struggles with physical and mental health, in an effort to reveal the man behind the decks.

The story begins with a fresh-faced teen creating house music tracks from his bedroom on Fruity Loops software, copying sounds from popular tunes and submitting early originals to blogs and forums. Ensuing buzz on the blogosphere caught the eye of local promoter Ash Pournouri, who saw potential for developing Bergling beyond a mere DJ or producer, as a fully-fledged artist. Reaching out over Facebook, Pournouri’s management would be crucial to the rise of the Avicii brand.

Among interviews with collaborators like David Guetta and Chris Martin, house music artist and early mentor Laidback Luke offers his insights on Bergling’s journey. Avicii’s first show was a mild affair, opening a club night in Miami to a crowd of just three people.

“There I met a very shy and held back type of kid,” Luke said, “He was just so nervous.”

The film quickly focuses upon a moment that would define Bergling’s career: the composition of Bergling’s first smash hit “Levels,” which features a prominent Etta James sample and made Avicii a household name.

Pournouri asserts from his leather office chair, “When ‘Levels’ is released, it’s going to be insane. There’s no other possible outcome with the plan I’ve made. There’s no way it won’t be a hit.”

An intriguing aspect of the film is how his stances as supportive coach and business-oriented Svengali seem in constant flux, with him then stating coolly, “Tim is going to die. With all the interviews and tours and everything he’s doing, he’ll drop dead.”

Indeed, four years into touring, with Bergling having racked up over 500 performance dates, the damaging side-effects of his habits come to the fore.

“In the beginning, I was afraid to drink because I didn’t want to screw up, but then I realized how stiff I was when I wasn’t drinking, so then I found the magical cure of just having a couple of drinks before going on.

“I think that’s what helped me do a lot of those shows without feeling completely exhausted,” he said.

Bergling’s increasing abdominal pains caused by an inflamed pancreas — effectively digesting his body from the inside — would lead to his first round of hospitalization and cancelled shows. Shots of Bergling on tour whilst infirm and heavy-lidded are candid in their display of his worsening illness.  

“It didn’t bother me as much as the pain afterwards did, which was much less, but it’s everyday when you wake up. The second you open your eyes, your stomach is hurting.” Bergling narrates, elaborating on the unexpected side effects of the medication. “It felt like I was constantly in a haze. You don’t know how long it’s gonna be like that for, and the doctors don’t know how long.”

Summer 2013 yielded another smash hit with “Wake Me Up,” the gig count ticking past 650, and Bergling winning ‘Best Electronic Dance Music Artist’ at the American Music Awards. Getting off the pain medication, things continued to gain momentum as he returned to Miami for the Ultra Music Festival, with a massive pop-up merchandise store in-tow, when both his appendix and gallbladder ruptured. The prescription of stronger medication would prove to be his greatest challenge, as they proved to be addictive and worsened his anxiety.

“I didn’t believe that I could slow down. I didn’t believe that I could tour any differently than this. I also looked around and I saw everyone else doing what I was doing, and they were doing fine, seemingly.” He narrates, “Then I started to feel crazy, in a sense. Everything on the checklist is there, so I should be happy. I didn’t have time to give myself to properly stop.”

Two years later, he had performed over 700 shows, and was working on his second album at a luxury cliff-side villa in Ibiza.

Despite the help of various psychiatrists, doctors and diets, his stress levels continued to affect his health and mental state. This increasing struggle in tandem with heightening commercial expectations form a stark contrast running through the film. Upon finishing the album, Bergling is shown crushing the script for a generic promotional message in a fit of disillusion, preceding a decision to cancel all his shows for the coming eight months.

The second act of the film covers 2016, presenting Bergling determined to change his lifestyle, focused on physical and mental therapy, with greater mindfulness of his personality as an introvert within extroverted-working environments. The ultimate expression comes in his early retirement from touring, announced without consulting any business partners, and after frank conversations with friends and family.

 “I think it’s important, not least for young people dreaming of being a superstar artist, to know what’s going on behind the Instagram pictures. Tim has great success and many happy stories but I think it’s important to show every side of the story,” director Tsikurishvili said.

Fans will appreciate the honesty of this cautionary tale, which navigates the blurry lines between Avicii as a man, an artist and a symbol. The film shirks any highly unflattering footage, but successfully resonates with a wider ongoing search in mainstream culture for deeper truths and a sense of authenticity.

Popular

Kadin urges stability after Constitutional Court ruling

Jokowi says transition to new government to begi

BCA loan disbursement surges 17.1 percent yoy in first quarter