Swedish singer/songwriter, record producer and multi instrumentalist Daniel Kadawatha has been on the music scene for several years under different pseudonyms and with different bands. He has also worked as a songwriter and producer for a large variety artists.

In 2017, Daniel finally decided to release some music as a solo artist. Even though Daniels musical origins are from the Rock and Pop scene, he has now developed a much wider musical palette, ranging from R&B, Urban Pop, Blues, Electronica, Indie Pop and more. The aspiration of his solo project is to create great songs that aren't necessarily genre specific but rather inspired of all genres that he likes and handles. He wants to keep the process experimental but still make songs that appeal to a wide audience.

Daniel composes, writes, produces, performs and mixes all his songs by himself in the studio he's built over the years.

In the past, Daniel has worked together with artists such as PARAMORE, JON FOREMAN, JAKOB KARLBERG, HUSET, HALFNOISE to mention some. He is also the man behind the sologuitar act DANIEL KAEDE, the founder and songwriter of Swedish rockband KADAWATHA and one half of the new Swedish Indie Pop duo HIDININ. His collaborative work ranges from co-writes, producing, touring and mixing. 

Daniel is now about to release his first single Black Lies. Release date will be announced shortly!

We are a duo (2 people) consisting of two, who like to produce Electronic Popular Music Also known as (AKA) Electropop.

Now. A short story to regale you with the story of how we came to meet.

It was a cold day, not raining, and certainly not sunny. Also, it was not particularly windy but there was a light breeze, which was cold.

I had a spring in my step as I casually walked along Greymont road; well, the footpath that runs parallel to Greymont road, in much the same way that footpaths follow the meanderings of most roadways within the United Kingdom. This road; however, was Greymont. I was out for a morning stroll; an activity that took my fancy every so often, usually in the morning, and I was pondering the meaning of my existence within this cruel and fetid world. I contemplated what life had in store for me. I also considered what I would order my housekeeper to cook for my evening meal. I had narrowed my choice down to either fillet steaks stuffed with goat’s cheese and pan fried shallots, or beans on toast.

All of a sudden, as I was crossing the junction of Lipton street, right at that instant but suddenly too, I was aware of a sharp pain in my upper thigh and I could feel a pressure right where the pain was. The pressure was pushing my thigh region, followed by my whole entire body, away from the area in which I had been walking. It felt like I was flying. I was airborne. I soared for what seemed like an age before finally landing in the left hand lane of Lipton Street (depending on from whence which direction you are approaching from). I landed a full 3 feet from the front of the car, for a car is what had caused my pain and subsequent sudden lateral and vertical movement. 3 feet? I hear you exclaim. A fair distance, no-one can deny.

I feel that if the car, a blue Audi, had been going any faster than 5 miles an hour, and if the superior design of it’s frontal crumple zone had been any less superior, I would have, no doubt, been propelled further. 5 feet perhaps, possibly more.

Despite the immense amount of pain I was experiencing, I was very quick to verticalize my body, even though I suspected that both my femurs had been snapped like brandy flavoured, tweel-type biscuits that had been rolled into tubes and then snapped. But I was very aware of the very famous adage “You gotta get back on the horse” (or something similar).

As I stood on my two completely shattered legs, I shouted to the driver in a hushed tone.


 “Ouch you rotter, that really hurt!”

He was extremely apologetic. I could tell because his eyes looked sad. He didn't actually say sorry, although I could tell he was, but after not saying sorry he added, “As you were flying that 3 feet through the air, you made a sound that was somewhat reminiscent of an Alison Moyet song I remember in my head from 1982. Would you like to form a duo and be the singer?”

“I don't wish to converse with you, you scoundrel,” I replied, “Goodbye, GO!”

“What an amazing name,” he answered, “Goodbye Go would make a fantastic band name!"

I was about to insist that the chap leave me alone at once, but when I opened my mouth to speak, the only sound that emerged was in the form of words. Words that said, "Actually, you are quite correct. What a really ruddy mega name I have just this moment invented."

And so, Goodbye Go were born and the rest, as they say, has already happened, historically, in the past.

Goodbye Go is following