Reykjavík Grapevine - 03.12.2004, Blaðsíða 34

Reykjavík Grapevine - 03.12.2004, Blaðsíða 34
reviews INDIGÓ TOO LATE TO SHINE People seem not quite to have grasped it yet, as was to be seen from the poor attendance at the Tenderfoot gig at the Smekkleysa record shop last Friday (November 19th). Those who did turn up enjoyed a startling set of mellow acoustic songs, a mixture of the early Radiohead mingled with country, a blast of melodies that unfolds in your ears before it sinks down into your heart. Thanks to the double bass, maybe, which adds a certain weight to this experience. A very beautiful, very tender approach to bring music back to those who are tired of pushing it to the end of its tether. Mind you, the Bad Taste dominated surroundings made some of the atmosphere, with all sorts of memorabilia from the “Lobster or Fame” exhibition in the corner of your eye. A manikin in a rabbit´s suit to the right and a pile of shrill 80´s- style clothes scattered on the floor in the front of “the stage” can’t help but clamor for attention. The setting of the gig was no coincidence, of course, as Tenderfoot have recently signed a deal with Smekkleysa. After having accumulated and developed a number of songs during their two years of touring, the band have finally decided to record their first full-length album. As a live band first and foremost, Kalli, Konni, Grímsi and Helgi have recorded most of the songs on “Without Gravity” (which will be released in December) live in the studio. “The communication that takes place between the band members at a concert creates a cetrain element in our music. This would be much harder to capture when recorded step by step individually”, they explain. Thus, little or no changes at all were added to some of the songs. Others they felt they had to take a bit further, adding more complicated arrangements by working on top of this special live-recording essence of theirs. So is this Tenderfoot’s magic potion? A bit of alternative-country, the old-fashioned way, an enchanting voice, a double bass and a mandolin here and there. What more can you ask from music than being taken in by its beauty? by Julika Huether THE SIMPLE BEAUTY OF TENDERFOOT However captivating, intriguing and special the Reykjavík music scene might be, there is also a dark side to it. With all these fantastic bands just outside your doorstep, people seem to be spoiled by outstanding, challenging music. New adventures in hifi are praised perpetually while more conventional approaches are easily overlooked. But has anybody ever considered that the simple beauty of music can be even more challenging than any lets-push-this-button-and turn-this-amp-up-so-we-get- some-strange-sounds-attitude? Remember Pornopop? No? Well, don’t worry because most people had totally forgotten about the band...if they even knew about it in the first place. It’s been 7 years since it’s first album, ‘Blue’, saw the light of day and despite some great reviews, the public failed to take notice as often is the case with experimental artists. After being largely anonymous since, Pornopop finally returns with an album that surpasses it’s own adventurous debut. Sure, it’s title may sound a bit pretentious but at the same time gives the listener a quite clear view of what he’s about to hear over the next 40 minutes or so. Pornopop is led by 2 brothers, Pétur Jóhann Einarsson and Ágúst Arnar Einarsson, along with producer Arnar Helgi Aðalsteinsson, who must take huge credit for his tasteful arrangements. The electronics blend perfectly with the acoustic instruments, creating an ambience that’s hauntingly beautiful at the best of times – and there are plenty of those here. The album also has no obvious lows although it does drift a bit off after reaching it’s climax during tracks 5 and 6, titled ‘Sleep’ and ‘It Doesn’t Mean a Thing’ respectively. The song that then follows, ‘Little Kafka’, could possibly be seen as the album’s weekest moment, mainly because of the vocal-effect, which adds little to it. Elsewhere, Pornopop stick to using Pétur Jóhann’s soft, natural voice to much better effect and he is also accompanied by a female vocalist on yet another of the album’s high-points, titled ‘Centre’. As stated earlier, this album is superior to it’s predecessor even though Pornopop’s wall of sound isn’t quite as thick as it used to be. Here, the band chooses to focus on matters more delicate and end up with an album that could either be described as gracefully quiet or quietly graceful... you decide. After hiding in the shadows for so long, Pornopop have sneaked in through the back-door to deliver one of the most memorable Icelandic albums of 2004. by Árni Viðar PORNOPOP AND THE SLOW SONGS ABOUT DEAD CALM IN YOUR HANDS You hear it sometimes: “If you squint, your friend kind of looks like Tom Cruise.” And you try it, and yes, indeed your large-nosed geeky friend can look like Tom Cruise and you shudder to think that the homely girl he’s dating squints this way during sex. It doesn’t take that much, but with Indigó, if you don’t pay attention, it sounds like Ryan Adams. And not crappy live or rock Ryan Adams, but the guy who did emotional well-produced and well-played love songs. Put this cd on during a party, and any friend with any feminine qualities (in Iceland, this is more likely to be a man than a woman, and more likely to be a foreigner than anyone else), will ask the name of the singer. It’s mood music. Music to light candles to. I can recommend the cd as Iceland’s contribution to the light alt. country movement. Moreover, I can highly recommend an Indigó live show. However, there is a draw back: don’t listen too closely. While the melodies sound spot on, and the violin and slow chords blend perfectly, the words being sung are not good. Because they are sung so well, and with so much sighing, they draw attention to themselves and, unfortunately, they just don’t have the depth to survive any examination. The tendency in the songwriting on the album is to repeat key I’m-having- a-deep-moment questions: “Is it too late to shine what’s on your mind?” or “Is there something you have to say this way?” with “way” being drawn out as though it is truly a dagger in the heart. If you are patient, you will shrug your shoulders and enjoy the protracted chords. Native English speakers might laugh and imagine singing similar lines with such passion in French. But probably most listeners who own the album and enjoyed a first distracted listening will take the cd out of the player, lose it, and pretend they never heard the words. by Bart Cameron 34

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