THE JOY OF SADNESS
An intimate concert in front of a small crowd, in a dark room somewhere in a small town. At first, everyone is still talking to each other, but quickly, after only a few minutes, it becomes silent. Because Thijs van der Meulen alias Roofman has started to play, alone, only with his voice and his guitar. He doesn't have to say anything, just sing, and he has already reached the audience with his wistful folk songs with that certain indie fragility. Because Roofman has this special charisma that makes people listen to him. His melancholic songs, which he sometimes breaks with humorous announcements, have great melodies and are, in the best sense, intense. "The joy of sadness," as he calls it, seems to touch people. He succeeds just as well in an intimate setting as in a larger club when on the road with his band – the effect is the same, only the musical variety and volume are different.
It's hardly surprising that Thijs van der Meulen says he enjoys playing live a lot. The stage is like home to him, he is fully there, doesn’t know any doubts. In life before and after the concerts, on the other hand, the Dutchman is a quiet, humorous, friendly man in his early thirties, who you wouldn't expect to have that kind of stage presence. This ambivalence is what makes sets him apart, as well as his songwriting. He writes at home, in the seclu- sion of his trailer, where he lives at his parents' campsite, just a few hundred meters from the house where he grew up. His home is surrounded by forest, which Roofman loves be- cause it offers him peace, no distractions. He enjoyed the short time he lived in Amster- dam, but it diverts him from his music. "In nature, I forget everything and focus on my sur- roundings," he says. "It helps me clear my head. It's an important part of my life and my art."
