Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.07.2007, Blaðsíða 21

RVK_GV_10_007_REVIEWS_54_REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 10_007_REVIEWS/MUSIC/CDS
Reviews by Bart Cameron, Sindri Eldon and Sveinn Birkir Björnsson
OK, the title sounds incredibly lame, but this is actually a very
good album. Although B.Sig is really a group of quality vet-
eran musicians, this is solely the project of newcomer Bjarki
Sigurðsson, who wrote all songs and lyrics on the album, (he
shares writing credits on two songs) besides co-producing
and co-engineering the whole thing as well. Eleven songs of
blues-rock tunes that range from almost jazzy, easy-listen-
ing ballads, to a more rocking rhythm that never betrays the
blues roots As a singer, Bjarki is equally at home singing
the slower ballads as he is on the more craftier songs. What
most surprised me is Bjarki’s matured song-writing skills. This
sounds like the work of a mid-career musician, rather than a
debut album. I am already preparing myself to be disappoint-
ed by his next release, since the only direction that seems
possible from here is down. SBB
Hvanndalsbræður is a trio of the least funny threesome that
ever had the marvellous idea to express their humour through
singing wacky tunes with country beats. The only way this
can be put into any sort of rational context is if this was writ-
ten for children. Otherwise, it is a sad testimony to Icelandic
music industry, nay, music in a general and global context.
But sadly, it is not written for children. And this makes me
eternally depressed, violent even, since I felt like breaking the
CD cover in my agony when suffering through this. Skást af
is a ‘greatest hit’ collection (I cringed writing those words)
from their previous three albums, none of which should have
come out in the first place in a fair and just world. This is a
good gift idea for the boss who fired you, that x-girlfriend
you hate, and others you have an axe to grind with, but prob-
ably just best left alone. SBB
Hvanndalsbræður
Skást af
B.Sig
Good Morning Mr. Evening
Toggi has spent the last three years honing his début album and it shows.
The first single, Heart in Line, is a polished melancholy acoustic pop tune
– complete with a full-blown string chorus. These 12 songs are well-writ-
ten, well-executed and well... not that memorable. It’s a great modern
mystery how Coldplay have become the world’s biggest band but it’s not
a great mystery where Toggi gets his inspiration from – although Travis
would be a better comparison. But he has a knack for writing good pop
tunes and the lyrics have the necessary ingredients of sadness, sorrow
and regret. Toggi’s voice is perfectly suited for these songs and the pro-
duction – including the pretty booklet – is excellent. It’s just that all this
feels so harmless somehow. I’m sure a fair number of songs will become
big radio hits and a fair number of lonely people will sing along – but
that’s as far as it will go. PH
Toggi
Puppy
Why does everyone whose band can do a halfway-pass-
able impression of Radiohead suddenly think they’re quali-
fied musicians? I don’t propose to answer that, but I will tell
you that Ampop’s latest album, while hackneyed and com-
monplace in the extreme, is a pleasant listening experience,
within which you can find - aside from the obligatory mod-
ern rock - attempts at folk, surf-rock, lo-fi and other similarly
stagnant musical genres. It might make for an interesting
album if listened to whilst skydiving nude out of an explod-
ing zeppelin while simultaneously solving a Rubik’s Cube and
drinking an entire bottle of cherry wine, but is otherwise best
avoided. SE
Ampop
My Delusions
There really aren’t that many clubs with good dance music in
Reykjavík. One wonders where Hermigervill honed his craft.
In any case, he’s got good beats and nice melodies—more
raw and aggressive than Beatmakin Troopa’s (also mentioned
in these reviews.) Hermigervill also has an ear for haunting
refrains that he balances throughout this album, for exam-
ple, in the form of a triad of piano chords on track fourteen,
Murdock’s Records. BC
Hermigervill
Sleepwork
Keflavík punk prima donnas Æla’s debut release is a serious sufferer of
Garage Band Syndrome, an illness that manifests itself by having a lead
singer that drags the rest of the band down by being lame. The rest of the
album is decent enough, with roaring, yet poignantly catchy bass riffs and
airtight drumming, and although the guitars aren’t terribly inspired, they
don’t really need to be, either. It’s Halli Valli’s unconvincing and forcefully
yelped vocals that leave one aching for more, especially in light of the fact
that everything else is so tight and heartfelt. Only the primal, unbridled
fury of Halli Valli’s screams on Fuglinn Í Fjörunni and Rockville/Birgið be-
trays any hint of the greatness Æla could achieve, once their singer gets
his act together. SE
Æla
Sýnið tillitsemi, ég er frávik
The first time I rolled this through the CD-player, it complete-
ly failed to engage me. But, after listening (time and time)
again, this thing is starting to grow on me a bit. After coming
in second in the Battle of the Bands three years ago, I some-
how remember Lada Sport as having been a more rocking
band than this indie-pop offering suggests, but recent mem-
ber change seems to have popped them up some. This is not
quite the world conqueror, but still a very adroit offering. It
sounds hopelessly artistic at times, but that is easy to forgive,
for when they hit their stride, they kind of take off. The rap-
rock (with an indie-pop twist) diddly Gene Pacman breaks
things up nicely by taking the band in a completely different
direction, which is good, since my biggest complaint about
this album is that it sounds all too monotonous. SBB
Lada Sport
Time and Time Again
Not since Spinal Tap’s Shark Sandwich has someone lobbed
a softball like this to a reviewer—the abysmal cover featuring
a smiling, topless girl, (the picture cuts just at the top of the
breasts to be playful), does not help the tag line “Don’t Play
This” at all. But Hera and the performers on her album don’t
deserve the bile that the cover raises. True, she has a song
about chocolate, “Chocolate, it melts the pain away,” that
won’t win her any songwriting competitions. But she seems
earnest enough, and she has a crystal clear voice. And a lot
of people don’t listen to words anyway. And maybe twelve
year olds need a topless role model. BC
Hera
Don’t Play This
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