Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.06.2007, Síða 23

8_REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 09_007_REVIEWS/MUSIC/LIVE
Jeff Buckley might have had the greatest set
of lungs ever to grace this earth with a song.
So, putting on a show to commemorate the
tenth anniversary of his accidental passing
is something you’d better pour all of your
heart and soul into – which the producers of
this event did fully and selflessly, with a near
capacity show in Austurbær that will no doubt
help keep Buckley’s memory alive in Iceland
for years to come.
With radio personality Andrea Jónsdóttir as
obvious MC of the evening, the night kicked
off with a video greeting from Jeff’s mother
Mary Gilbert out of her L.A office. We were all
thanked and wished a good time – which put a
nice stamp of legitimacy to the proceedings.
Putting Lights on the Highway’s singer
Kristófer Jensen at the vocal helm of the un-
dertaking is exactly the move one might ex-
pect, and he did Jeff Buckley justice with many
heartfelt and near perfect renditions of material
both from the album Grace and later tracks
that never made it to the studio on Buckley’s
lips. But alas, Kristófer is only human and he
kind of dropped the ball on Last Goodbye and
by the encore performance of Eternal Life his
voice was shot.
Joining Kristófer at the helm was Sverrir
Bergman, who may have stolen his thunder
with the climactic Dream Brother, leaving
Kristófer to play catch-up with an excellent
rendition of Forget Her. On Hallelujah, guest
performers Helgi Valur and Bjarni were both
last minute replacements who nonetheless
sounded well rehearsed, although Bjarni smiled
his way through a couple of fumbles. While this
was not the high point I was hoping for, Helgi
Valur carried the tune well and this proved
to be the most sombre of moments and the
only time I found to really reflect on the tragic
drowning that ultimately brought us in front
of this stage tonight.
Among the other guests were: Diva De
La Rosa, who lent her odd, blues-laden and
beautiful voice to Lilac Wine; Andrea Gylfa-
dóttir, with a neither here nor there version
of Satisfied Mind; and bursting out off left
field, hedonistic funny man Finni Prik with the
mood-lighting ruckus of MC 5’s Kick out the
Jams.
In conclusion, I found no major faults with
the show at all, although I could only wish for
one of the singers onstage to have matched
Buckley’s remarkable width of register and fire
of that drawn out high pitch wail he’ll effort-
lessly send rippling down your spinal column.
As well, a Corpus Christi replacing a non-Grace
tune would have hit the spot.
A nice addition to the evening’s proceed-
ings, or a particularly funny faux pas depending
on how you look at it, was when the computer-
projected images of Buckley on the silver screen
behind the stage announced that someone
has just signed in to MSN.
Celebrating Buckley
Text by Bogi Bjarnason Photo by Ása Laufey
Who: Various artists
Where: Austurbær
When: June 13, 2007
They’re veterans, AIR. They’ve been doing
the album-tour-album-tour format for almost
a decade now, squeezing in the occasional
festival gig just to show the world that they’ve
got a massive fan base . The band has been
touring for its latest release, Pocket Symphony
(Astralwerks), which is a slower album that
doesn’t pack the same complex punch that
Talkie Walkie does.
Opening for the French duo was the Björk-
inspired Kate Havnevik. The Norwegian song-
writer is touring for her debut album Melank-
ton (Republic), and has arrived after playing a
long North American tour with AIR. Kate came
out in a big purple dress and with a haircut
that looked exactly like a frizzy map of the
southern United States. Her only other band
members were an afroed trumpet player and
a wriggling bassist. Kate’s sound was humun-
gous, her voice spectacular. But as gorgeous
as some of her songs were, and as clean and
professional the production of her live set was,
it still wasn’t classy. Havnevik’s set felt more
like glorified 3-man karaoke than a live music
show. It seemed like an empty magic trick of
huge invisible orchestras and electronic beats
with a small woman trying to time up with the
electronic wizardry. At times the microphone
even creaked, and the hugeness of her set was
thrown greatly off balance.
When AIR came on it was relieving to see
actual instruments on the stage, and this is
AIR we’re talking about, so there was a ton of
unbelievably rare analogue keyboards. The tech
nerds swooned. AIR played a few songs from
Pocket Symphony, and a few songs from Talkie
Walkie. The consistency of their chilled-out set
made me wish I had grabbed seating, but it
also made me wish they were playing some
of their more moving songs. To be honest, I
was a little disappointed that they didn’t play
Surfin’ on a Rocket, because it’s one of my
all time favourites. Song-wise, AIR did justice
to Pocket Symphony’s Once upon a time and
took things to another level with the buzzing
synthesiser solo on Venus.
Now, it’s difficult to talk about this show
without mentioning the work of the sound
guy. I suspect that the once-lively audience
was thrown off by AIR’s slower set, but some-
thing was clearly taking the edge off of their
generally sharp sound. Though the keyboards
soared and the drums punched, the vocals
sounded like they were coming out of your
neighbour’s cheap P.A system. It was strange
that while the opener’s vocals were impressive,
the soundboard didn’t do much for AIR.
After the set ended, the audience did its
little encore dance for AIR, and the band came
out to play Talkie Walkie’s Alone in Kyoto and
Moon Safari’s Sexy Boy. Then they left again.
At this point, many weary fans headed out for
the theatre’s doors.
But lo and behold, Air came on for a third
encore song and finally indulged in some outer-
spaceyness, eventually cramming La Femme
d’Argent into a thousand knots of looping
keyboards as they left a blinking, starry back-
drop.
How Do You Like AIR?
Text by Chandler Fredrick Photo by Leó Stefánsson
What: AIR and Kate Havnevik
Where: Laugardalshöll
When: June 19, 2007
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midi-concerts.pdf 4/11/07 10:55:30 AM
Icelandic/Swedish reggae band Hjálmar set
the perfect example of how not to reward
their dedicated fans. Let me explain. Hjálmar
were due on stage at around midnight but
didn’t show until 1:00 am. Although I’m not
a longstanding fan – I’ll admit that I hadn’t
heard their music until recently – my patience
as a reviewer was pushed to the absolute limit.
Yeah, I know this is Iceland and people party
late, but one hour late, come on! Normally I
would expect an established band to be say 15,
20, 30 minutes late but not a whole 60.
In my exhausted and pessimistic state,
sitting on the floor with some other punters
waiting for the show to start, I was reminded
of the time I waited one and a half hours (it
may have even been more than two hours, I
can’t recall now) for Guns N Roses to come on
stage at a festival a few years back. Axl Rose
is notoriously late. But when people starting
flooding into NASA after 12:30, I realised that
either Hjálmar too had a reputation for being
late, or the venue staff had given me the wrong
start time. But it wasn’t long before others
began irritatingly checking their watches.
Around 12:45 people started getting rest-
less and shouting out for Hjálmar to get their
act together. By 1:00 am they set the stage.
The six piece group, consisting of guitars, bass,
drums, keyboards and organ, spend their time
between Reykjavík and Stockholm.
The crowd was as diverse as unfortunate-
ly Hjálmar’s songs were not. It must be said
though that Þorsteinn Einarsson’s melodic vo-
cals (in Icelandic) were a pleasant surprise. But
was it just me or did the volume seem to get
increasingly louder as the night went on?
What is admirable about Hjálmar, though, is
their ability to attract such a variety in their fan
base. There were quite a few older members
of the crowd; dressed with various reggae ac-
cessories they were clearly here to see Hjálmar
and not Icelandic rock legend Megas, who was
to appear on stage later in the evening. They
surely knew the words to some of the songs,
anyway.
Singlet tops and bare stomachs were the
choice of dress for some girls who clearly
thought they were in the birthplace of reggae.
But with temperatures of 18ºC earlier in the
day, you can forgive them for mistaking Ice-
land for the tropics. I’m sure this was a slightly
different experience for many. The air was,
well, unscented. The crowd at Nasa seemed
to respect the smoking ban now in place in
Iceland. A smoke machine compensated for
what would have otherwise been lacking in
terms of atmosphere.
Those standing closest to the stage got into
the groove and adopted a continuous swaying
motion to the chilled out reggae beats. Hjálmar
are apparently known for their long sets and
were scheduled to play a two and a half hour
set. With that in mind – and don’t get me
wrong I did enjoy their set – I left after the
first hour content that I had just seen (perhaps)
the world’s most northerly reggae band in the
world.
Better Late Than Never
Text by Zoë Robert Photo by Bogi Bjarnason
Who: Hjálmar, Megas and KK
Where: NASA
When: June 23, 2007
I wonder if the Motions Boys have been having
nightmares about power. For those of us who
were there for the Great Motion Boys Power
Blowout of 2007, there was undoubtedly a
little anxiety in the anticipation of Motion Boy’s
second live set. The “What if’s?” seemed to
be popping up everywhere, and you had to
wonder if the May 24 accident was a matter
of faulty electrical cables, or fate.
So when Birgir Ísleifur came on stage at
around 9 o’clock, people crowded the front
very nervously. There was something fragile and
delicate about the audience, as if they were
all concerned for the Motion Boys and their
performance at the biggest venue in the city. I
hate to say this, but the crowd was so delicate
with the Motion Boys that I think they might
have been afraid that breaking out into one
single dance step would blow the power right
out again. Even though the incredible, all-star
line up put on a top-notch performance, and
Birgir Ísleifur had all the Mick Jagger moves a
crowd could ask for (moves that should have
inspired any audience to swoon, Icelandic or
not), the Icelandic audience was again more
stubborn to dance than a middle-schooler with
braces.
One justification might have been that most
of the songs Motion Boys played at NASA have
been inaccessible since their last show (only
Waiting to Happen and Hold Me Closer to Your
Heart are available online). The unfamiliarity
with the music may have made people less
willing to dance, but I still don’t buy it. I was
disappointed with the fact that the Reykja-
víkians didn’t make an effort to show their
support for a good local act. When I saw the
way they moved for the headlining act, I was
slightly unsure of their loyalty to their own
music scene.
On came The Rapture, four dark Brook-
lynites in thrift-store t-shirts. The band im-
mediately exploded into the scratchy guitar
and rickety bass riff from Out of the Races
and Onto the Tracks. The Rapture played a
lot of stuff from Echoes, and Pieces of the
People We Love, which are not my favourite
albums, but the sound in the theatre was gritty
enough and I didn’t feel like I was listening
to their overproduced albums. The band was
not as entertaining to watch as Motion Boys,
but front man Luke Jenner managed to pull
some cool tricks out of the bag. I had heard
and seen him play the clanky dance riffs a la
Gang of Four, but I had no idea that he could
shred at the guitar, and once he started play-
ing quicker and faster the energy in the room
peaked. By now it seemed that half the dance
floor was full-on leaping into the air. And even
though it was an American act, it was nice to
see that the Icelanders at least knew how to
get sweaty.
Swooning With The Rapture
Text by Chandler Fredrick Photo by Gulli
Who: The Rapture and Motion Boys
Where: NASA
When: June 26, 2007