Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.10.2009, Blaðsíða 28

THE OUTER REACHES:
GRAND ROKK late night
on the 25th of SEPTEMBER
There are times I am relatively proud
to be from Iceland. The scene at
a quarter past midnight at Grand
Rokk on the third night of Reykjavík
Round-Up may have been one of those
times. It was like a dockside bar in a Kaurismäki
film, with the final dregs of the festival, audience-
and music-wise coming together at this fairly
wayward venue to indulge in their preferred
vices... sort of.
The drinks were a little too far on the
expensive side to fully set the scene, and of
course, not every drunk in town had bought
tickets to Reykjavík Round-Up, nor were they
willing to sacrifice 1000 ISK of unemployment
benefits otherwise spent on 22 oz of beer for a
one-night entry pass. In fact, I‘m a little surprised
anyone would, and I don‘t mean that as any kind
of insult to the bands playing that night.
No, I‘m just surprised that a city, a town of
200,000 people can not only have differing
cultures and genres of music, but also
subcultures and subgenres. It‘s astounding,
really, when you think about the numbers. It
would be impossible to deny the existence of a
multitude of musical niches that exist in Iceland,
all of them diligently filled by someone or other
who never makes any money doing it.
Not that the night‘s acts seemed overly
concerned with fitting into any niches... or
making any money. Peter & Wolf were two
bearded men who offered continuous and deeply
satisfying drones and beats playing for a half-
empty room of what looked mostly like drunk
intellectuals and other music critics, most of
whom were probably pretty drunk as well. I found
it particularly amusing that along one of the walls
was a row of spare tables, upon which there
sat an upturned second row along with their
corresponding chairs. The place was so empty
that the staff didn’t even need to lay all the tables
down.
Peter & Wolf’s sci-fi strategy PC game
soundtrack was eventually replaced by the
slightly more energetic keyboard stylings of
Orustubjarki. His tightly controlled, very
German-sounding techno was invigorating, and
drew more enthusiasm from the “crowd.” It was a
curious scene, made all the more fascinating by
its loudness, closeness and privacy.
I have up to this point omitted two particular
adjectives which, although offering a very
concise description of the first two acts I saw,
just seem irrelevant and inadequate for their own
respective reasons. The first is hypnotic, but that
was, seemingly, the whole point of the music, and
their likability hinged on being able to bring this
hypnotism across live. At that, they succeeded
brilliantly. The second word is trippy, and I just
haven’t used it up to this point because it’s a
loathsome word used only by dim-witted cretins.
Orrustubjarki managed to give his electronics
a sort of confident lo-fi charm, a subtle onslaught
of pop that at first seemed sublime and
ingenious, blessed with the kind of consistent
persistence that gets you into a girl’s pants, but it
all kind of dissolved in the end. It became shallow
in a distinctly unwelcome way, and I remember
feeling like an accessory to the murder of a Swiss
DJ for even liking it.
Skorpulifur were another matter entirely.
Well-intentioned, both as musicians and as a
freak show, they fell prey to two errors made far
too often by small bands in small scenes. First off,
the sound was awful. Grand Rokk almost always
has bad sound, but Skorpulifur, being a playback-
based duo, were particularly susceptible to this,
as the vocals were considerably louder than the
playback, so the otherwise decisive force of their
beats was rendered inconsequential.
Second, they played too long, and I want to
call people’s—and by people I mean musicians—
attention to this. I’ll print it in bold and uppercase
and hope to Moses that the Grapevine’s excellent
layout people won’t fuck me over: IF YOUR
BAND HAS NOT HAD AT LEAST ONE GOLD
ALBUM, DO NOT BOTHER PLAYING FOR
LONGER THAN 25 MINUTES. NOBODY GIVES
A SHIT, AND YOU’RE BETTER OFF LEAVING
PEOPLE WANTING MORE. TRUST ME.
So what started out as an exuberant all-out
performance from two slightly overweight
drunk guys, one wearing sequined two-piece
pyjamas and the other in Speedos and a swim
cap (Why is it that all Icelandic men interested
in exposing themselves in public are in terrible
shape, whereas the fit, slim ones always stay
completely clothed?), eventually petered out to
an obnoxiously repetitive display of attention-
whoring that, towards the end, failed to elicit
even mild guffaws of entertainment. Oh sure,
there was applause, but when isn’t there? I mean,
they could have told jokes about Patrick Swayze
and Michael Jackson being lovers and dying of
AIDS, and somebody would have applauded.
Applause does not equal satisfaction. It has
become an utterly meaningless form of social
communication, like a toast or a handjob.
That said, they were still pretty decent. They
just made two very common mistakes, one of
which wasn’t entirely theirs, and their music is
pretty interesting. If those men did not get laid
that night, I’d be very surprised. - Sindri Eldon
Réttir Music Reviews
approach every once in a while would not hurt.
I remember seeing Momentum play a few years back. It
was fast, heavy and brutal. I do not know what has happened
since then, but they’re certainly neither fast nor brutal these
days. It seems Momentum, like Sólstafir, have discovered
the road to indieville. It is admirable when bands try out new
things, and Momentum are clearly on the right track. The
music is ominous and dreamy, a delightful mix of metal and
indie-rock. It lacked a certain punch however. Maybe it was
the sound, but a little more power would’ve helped.
- Flosi Þorgeirsson
Friday 25.09.09
Jacobsen
Friday 25.09.09
NASA
Friday 25.09.09
Sódóma
Sin Fang Bous and Seabear main man Sindri DJs before and
in-between acts tonight. He starts the evening by playing a
nice selection of minimal electronica, almost as if he’d raided
Thomas Morr’s collection. It works perfectly in warm up
Jacobsen, the crazy weather beating down outside.
Starting off the evening are Pascal Pinon, whose looks
precede them. The ubiquitous ‘krútt’ generation style is
certainly on display at tonight’s show, but it would be harsh to
judge the four 15-year-old girls who make up the band based
on their look and write them off as just another krútt band.
Pascal Pinon’s music deserves more than that, as it really
shines and more than exceeds any label one could slap on
it. Their simple lo-fi indie pop brings melodies you can’t help
but get stuck in your head. Attracting a large crowd and well
received by all present, they most definitely have a promising
future.
Next act, DJ Flugvél & Geimskip, is neither a duo nor
a DJ. One girl armed with an array of old keyboards and a
computer, DF&G plays a sort of naïve punk lo-fi videogame
electronica, similar in style akin to 12 Tónar legend Sigríður
Níelsdóttir. Unfortunately for DJ Flugvél & Geimskip, she
doesn’t possess the charm and subtleties that makes
Sigríður Níelsdóttir so likeable and that sound just seems old
fashioned by now.
Svavar Pétur Eysteinsson of Skakkamanage fame turns
up next to play as his musical alterego, Prins Póló. We are
treated to a short sharp set of his solo acoustic music. As a
big fan of Skakkamanage, I’m excited to witness Prins Póló
play, but that is probably the problem. While obviously a great
songwriter, without the aid of his comrades Svavar’s solo
songs often sound like Skakkamanage demos—missing a lot
of the charisma that makes Skakkamanage so enjoyable. This
doesn’t seem to bother tonight’s crowd, though, and his set’s
highlight is during final song Átján og hundrað from his début
EP, where Svavar even gets a deserved sing along.
Sudden Weather Change have seen a lot of hype over
the last year, which is worrying. Surely they can’t live up to all
that. How wrong could I be, though. Sudden Weather Change
certainly wear their influences on their sleeves. Sounding like
the bastard child of Sonic Youth and Pavement, they have big
shoes to fill and they certainly do, with a youthful energy and
excitement on their side. From jangly quiet guitar buildups, to
walls of distortion and loud throbbing bass lines, they show
little regard for their equipment or personal safety, as one
guitarist ends up on the speaker boxes and the Jacobsen
mirror balls look in real danger.
Jacobsen has never seen a rock show like this and
probably never will again. Finishing with a wall of feedback,
while members sing Nothing Compares To You, Total Eclipse
Of The Heart and Stereo Rock ‘n Roll, theirs is a hype you
could well buy into.
Downstairs, HumanWoman, consisting of DJ Magic
and Sexy Lazer, show why they are some of the best house/
techno/dub DJs in town. Playing a mixture of minimal techno
and house, we are even lucky enough to get the first preview
of songs off their forthcoming album. With both of them
adding live vocals over the top of a dub house beat, it points
to exciting things to come for this pair. The future of dance
music is in safe hands it would seem. - Adam Wood
Friday got off to a pretty chilled out start with Nóra opening
things up for an evening of relaxed revelry. The five-piece
band entertained a scattering of people with an interesting
mash up of instruments, creating music that was bit left of
centre and pretty cool. They didn’t exactly start the night with
a bang but they played a nice set and got things going well
enough, even if the audience at this point consisted mostly
of photographers.
By the time Sing for me Sandra rolled up, the audience
had grown to include a big bunch of teenagers, who
appraised other audience members disdainfully and generally
didn’t seem to be particularly enthused by anything. The
guys in the band are a talented bunch, but still have a slightly
young sound (the Blink 182 influences are firmly on their
sleeves) that will probably only improve with time. They used
their voices well, creating cool triple harmonies, and their
music, despite its adolescent sound, brought some intangible
element of difference. However, it was hard to get past the
feeling of being at a high school dance, and the atmosphere
was heavy with the feeling of youthful indifference.
Then along came The Samúel Jón Samúelsson Big
Band who packed the place out with a loyal audience,
inciting dancing and action. In fact, it was difficult not to
get caught up in the funk and lose it a little bit on the dance
floor. The band is huge (18 members in total) and brought
the right attitude, not taking themselves too seriously, and
sporting a variety of fun costumes. They effortlessly set up
a fun atmosphere for the evening, and their music paved the
way well for Retro Stefson, who drew a huge crowd and did
not disappoint with their awesome blend of world and pop
music, rocking the crowd impressively with favourites such as
Medallion and Papa Paulo III. As usual, they played a tight set.
The band works really well in a large venue, and their onstage
presence belies their youth (to be fair, they have been playing
the Reykjavík scene for a good few years).
The crowd in the right frame of mind to have their now
rather drunk and disorderly socks rocked off by FM Belfast,
who firmly delivered. There was confetti. There was frenzied
dancing. Their audience lapped it up. The band played a solid
set of old and new material, appearing to let themselves go
in the moment as much as the drunken and excitable crowd.
They were naturally called back for more at the end of their
set, and delivered a wicked encore that ended their set on
a high note. Most of the audience left at that point, leaving
an enthusiastic core stomping around to the fresh beats laid
down by Pedro Pilatus and Bear Hug. Comprising of Retro
Stefson bassist Logi Pedro and his friend Hugi Þeyr, the duo
played a sweet electro/hip hop set, interspersed with ODB
samples and some nice female vocals. - Bergrún Anna
Hallsteinsdóttir
Keflavík’s Hellvar start the night and they have gotten the
right idea by bringing some friends along to dance and shout
and incite the rest of the audience to approach the stage.
Their brand of electro-metal is fairly catchy and infectious,
but their drum machine is so loud, it’s borderline obnoxious.
The lead singer is pretty hard when she loses her guitar and
starts doing the soccer-mom shuffle. She should probably
just hang onto her instrument.
The boys in Jan Mayen don’t need to use their
instruments as crutches, luckily, because they are far too
busy making adorable, retro, garage-pop on them. It’s fun
and easy to clap along to, very enjoyable in the moment.
The musicians deliver their songs with ample energy and
commitment, but something tells me they have yet to write
the hit that will cement them as a solid band. Keep on truckin’,
kids.
I would have taken an extra thirty minutes of Jan Mayen
over the snooze fest that was Miri. I was intrigued by the
bombastic montage of classical music that the band entered
the stage with, but was promptly bummed out within 20
seconds of hearing the band’s lacklustre preppy rock.
The crowd gets really riled up, but their dramatic stage
demeanour is complete overkill for their severely boring
music. Every song seems to build up, then stop short and go
nowhere. Yawn.
Skakkamanage are a welcome relief from the previous
act for the first few songs of their set, but once they take
it down a few notches, their standard indie rock stylings
simply become background music and I can tell they will be
Comic | By Hugleikur Dagsson
10
Iceland Airwaves 2009 CD Review
Casiokids
Oh yes! Dubby, poppy, swinkly
basslines, Mr Oizo-esque bubbly farty
electro-kazoo noises! Jaunty drums!
Yes, jaunty! Sweet pop melodies!
Harmonies! One Two Three Four
heartbeat wowness! Synths not
synthetics! Infiltration of happiness!
This couldn’t get any better! Test me!
Try and listen to these songs without
smiling, groovin, grinnin and vowing
to order more sugary cocktails: that’s
right, bucko, you can’t! Casiokids
have made you happy! Tough shit if
that’s not what you wanted! You suck!
The names of the songs go like this:
Verdens Største Land (demo) / Fot I
Hose Grønt Lys I Alle Ledd / Togens
Hule / Gomur Mamma (Unreleased)!
You don’t care! You’re eating Pez
direct from the dispenser and have
a sudden urge to play with Rubiks
Cubes! Play this to the bankers and
the arschloch cunthurdling thieves
will explode, showering the world in
semi-digested hedge funds and blobs
of gold! Probably. - Joe ShoomanSingles (Moshi Moshi)
Grapevine Airwaves Mini 2009 Go to www.grapevine.is/airwaves