Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.07.2004, Blaðsíða 28

ON THE RIVERBANK WITH BUBBI
by Robert Jackson
It’s the car you notice first. So many millions of kronur’s worth of
tinted windowed, metallic grey, whispering-wheeled Range Rover.
Then out jumps the driver, dressed from top to toe in an equally im-
pressive several hundred thousand kronur’s worth of Simm’s, metallic
grey waders and wrap-around shades. We are on the banks of one of
the country’s most exclusive salmon rivers with Bubbi Morthens.
OUTSIDE REYKJAVÍK
The drugs and drink behind him
and an early morning regime of
workouts in the boxing gym have
produced a man who exudes health
and energy; a man in his prime.
And, as Bubbi celebrates his
25th anniversary as a professional
musician, he has never been
happier, nor busier. A new album
(his sixteenth), the publication
of a children’s book, the second
series of Idol, a documentary and
a regrouping of Egó are all to be
packed into the next six months. But
now is the summer and summer, for
Bubbi, means Iceland and fishing.

“As a kid I spent the days fishing
out on Meðalfellsvatn, rowing
and hooking trout out of the lake
the whole summer long. It was a
total freedom. I set off each day on
adventures, the lake, the river or the
mountains - I’d take my pick. When
you are a kid you can step into
whatever world you want to step
into. I would only come back when
I was hungry. It was glorious, it was
my life and my joy to be there.”
Nicotine gum and fishing
instead of drugs
Bubbi’s itching to get down the
river, but he also seems happy to talk
a while longer. He pops a piece of
nicotine gum into his mouth; since
giving up smoking a few weeks ago
he chews it with the determination
of a major league baseball player.
“When I got off the drugs I knew
that I had to do something that was
normal.
I started to think, what was the
thing that I loved the most, what
was it that meant the most to me?
Well, it was fishing. So I said to
myself, ‘I’m back into the fishing.’”
He has studio time booked to finish
the new album. For some, fishing
is a complete break for work but for
Bubbi it can be part of the creative
process.
“I get a lot of ideas when I’m on
these trips. I find that words or
melodies, they come easily out here.
I don’t have to work for them, and
if they come when I’m fishing,
they’re fresh and they go to ‘the
bank’ and they stay there. It´s nice
really nice. When I’m fishing I’m in
a good state of mind, I’m in balance
with nature.” He laughs. “I’m
unplugged!”
Communist, traitor and anarchist
We head off down to the river. The
northerly wind brings with it a chill
and the prospect of bad weather. “I
hate rain. Fisherman will always tell
you that rain and cloud are good for
the fishing but I don’t like it. This
is not the way I want to see nature.
I like sunshine, hot weather. That’s
my kind of weather.
You know, we finally we have a
generation who are growing up to
believe that their country is their
mother, it’s a living creature. It’s
not just a piece of rock. But we
have a government who really aren’t
that committed to it. They look
at our country and say, ‘What can
we squeeze out of it, what can we
get out of it?’ So they build damns,
aluminium smelters and they ruin
the country and they will tell you
that they are doing it for the people.”
“I protested against Kárahnjúkar, but
the problem is that too many people
here are too scared to make a stand.
Too scared to say what they truly
believe in case down the line they
can’t get a job or a career. I spoke
out and will continue to speak out
against Davíð and Halldór selling
the East to Alcoa, I tell people
that it is only Alcoa who will make
any money out of it. I get called a
communist, a traitor, an anarchist in
return (sounds like a good mix -ed).
More people should be prepared to
speak out.”
Fighting to keep it
Bubbi has always been outspoken
and it is hard to find a topic that
he is reticent about, but his manner
is always lighthearted and the
rants, which come in waves, are
interspersed with laughter and
humour.
“It almost like this government
doesn’t see tourism as real project.
They see it as a cheap buck, easy
money… they don’t want to plan for
the future. We have guys who used
to fish showing tourists the whales,
they start to make whale watching
good business. But the government
says: “Well we’ll just keep killing a
few during the tourist season.” What
sort of message does that send? It’s
just like in my grandfather’s times.
‘I’m my own boss, I don’t care what
you say.’ All that old shit. It’s like
listening to Einar Benediktsson…It’s
so short sighted. They don’t see into
the future, they don’t see reality.
The future has to be tourism. People
come in their thousands to see our
country; they don’t come to see
aluminium factories.”
We are down by the river now and
the air is thick with the calls of the
whimbrels, terns, snipe, plovers,
all who have come to lay their eggs
before heading south for the winter.
“Listen to that. Isn’t it amazing? We
need to get more Icelanders out into
the country in the summer. This
whole valley’s alive with birds. It’s
the same all over the country. To be
here, to witness it is part of a much
bigger thing. If more could people
could experience this they would
fight harder to keep it.”
Egó strikes again
The sun has decided to break loose
from behind the clouds and Bubbi
now stretches out on the bank to
grab some rays, the young man who
sat and stretched his legs, smoking
a joint while being interviewed in
Rokk í Reykjavík seems a long way
away. This summer sees him pulling
his band of those days, Egó, together
again.
“This will be the fifth version of
Egó. Me and Magnus Stefánson,
we decided to form the band with
new members. We are not just
getting together for three gigs; we
are planning to write and move
Egó forward. We will do an album.
We’ve been working really hard,
firstly getting the old material
together. When I’m there singing
some of these old lyrics, I think,
‘Wow, Man!’ This is an arrogant
attitude, this is something. Then
there are songs that are so brilliant
- I am speechless.” He grins as he
says it.
“I’ve always liked working with a
band. You are less exposed than
when it’s just you on stage with
your voice and your guitar. It’s ten
times more difficult; you have to
keep everything in the palm of your
hand. If you do anything wrong it
screams out from the stage. You are
so vulnerable up there alone. In a
band you are part of it. It’s more like
a family relationship.
The only way. Man.

“We are going over for the first
gig in the Westman Islands for the
holiday festival. We’ve put together
a great set, I can feel it all ready.
It’s going to be great. They’ll hear
the new Egó play the old songs
in a fresh way. We’ll play some
Utangarðsmenn songs, a few from
my solo career and we’ll put some
others in there like ‘Guns of Brixton’
and maybe some other Clash
numbers. But mainly it will be Egó.
We´ll fly in, play 1 1/2 hours and
go and then fly out.” Times have
changed.
He leaps up and strides over to
unclip his rod from the roof of the
car. “Man, what am I doing? There’s
fish in this river and I’m sitting here
talking…”
Another stick of gum and Bubbi
wades into the neck of the pool to
catch his first fish from this river this
season. If he does he will release it.
This too, is a thing that has changed.
“Make sure you tell them that
Icelanders should stop killing every
salmon they catch. We’ll have none
left for our children and our rivers
will be dead. Catch and Release,
Catch and Release - it’s the only
way, man.”
And so I have.
Exiting planned day tours and
custom made tours by your own wishes
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