Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.03.2010, Side 22

The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 03 — 2010
22
Dr. Gunni’s History Of Icelandic Rock | Part 16 Music | CD Reviews
Punk and new wave came late to Iceland.
In 1979, all Icelandic records were still
either disco, foamy pop or Meat Loaf-
imitations. Some punkerly types were
lurking around, though, young kids buy-
ing their music by mail order from Lon-
don, falling flat for The Clash, Sex Pistols
and all those exciting new sounds. The
Stranglers came to Iceland in 1978, pro-
moting their 3rd album for the English
press, which accompanied the band on
an arctic bender, playing a sold out show
for about 5.000 Icelanders. This gig was
an eye-opener for many.
The first Icelandic punk band,
Fræbbblarnir (“The Staaamens”), start-
ed as a joke at the Kópavogur College
in 1978. Two college bands had some
months earlier tried to do some punk
damage, Þvag (“Urine”) and Halló & Hei-
lasletturnar (“Hello & The Brain Splat-
ters”), but both died after their first gigs.
Fræbbblarnir’s first gig was intended as a
joke to shock their uptight schoolmates
and teachers, but playing was just too
much fun, so the joke lingered on. The
band performed punk covers with Icelan-
dic lyrics, but soon started to write their
own music. For all of 1979 they soldiered
on, spreading the punk gospel in disco in-
fected Iceland, often being boo-ed off the
stage but still gaining some momentum
along the way.
As 1979 wore on, Fræbbblarnir start-
ed to rent the Kópavogur cinema for gigs.
A handful of like-minded groups had
started to sprout up, so the cinema soon
became the Mecca for Icelandic punk.
The gigs usually took place on Saturday
afternoons at two. There was no age limit,
so this was where many youngsters, in-
cluding me, got converted to punk rock.
There was not much else happening,
y’know, especially if you couldn’t be both-
ered with sports.
Fræbbblarnir went through some
line-up changes in the beginning. Found-
ing members
Valgarður (sing-
er) and Stefán
(drums) were
soon joined by a
dangerous look-
ing bass player
from Akureyri,
Steinþór. He looked the most punk of
them all, tall and cool, often sporting
Nazi jewellery. These guys were about
21-years old in 1980 when two 14-year-
old guitar-players were initiated into the
band, Ari and Tryggvi. They had previ-
ously hung outside the band’s rehearsal
garage, running away trembling with fear
when the band came out to smoke. Ari
quickly jumped ship, but the remaining
four piece was the classic line-up that
started working on a LP in 1980. The
album, Viltu nammi væna? (“Do you
want some candy, dear?”), came out at
the end of 1980 (a previous line-up of
Fræbbblarnir had recorded a three song
EP in 1979 that came out on an indie label
in Sheffield in 1980).
Saturday, April 12th 1980. Another af-
ternoon punk concert at the Kópavogur
Cinema. Fræbbblarnir headlining, some
band called Utangarðsmenn (“The Out-
siders”) is also on the bill, and this is my
first gig ever with my first band, Dord-
inglar (“Spiders”). I’m so stressed out
that I suffer attacks of diarrhoea during
soundcheck. Those Utangarðsmenn sure
are tough looking guys, all jeans and
leather jackets, sunglasses and grins. At
age fourteen, I’m almost afraid to look at
them. The Fræbbblarnir dudes are much
more chummy. Bubbi Morthens, the
singer from Utangarðsmenn, a muscular
tough guy, asks me to pass him an empty
coke bottle so he can put his cigarette
out. I obey and try not to faint.
This was Utangarðsmenn’s third gig
ever, and the one that broke the band.
The act was self-confidence incarnated.
Bubbi took Iggy Pop as a cue for his stage
act and a vintage Fender Telecaster was
smashed to bits during the set’s highlight.
The audience was in awe. From now on,
Fræbbblarnir would support Utangarðs-
menn, not the other way around....
- DR. GunnI
By Dr. Gunni, based on his 2000 book Eru ekki
allir í stuði? (Rock in Iceland). A revised update
of the book is forthcoming in 2010.
1. Bubbi says fuck you with his finger
at the Kópavogur Cinema in 1980.
(Credit: Birgir Baldursson)
2. Fræbbblarnir in 1980.
3. Viltu nammi væna?, Fræbbblarnir’s
debut album from 1980. The sleeve
plays on the paedophile title, but
the lyrics deal with things like Pol
Pot, masturbating to pictures of the
recently elected president, Vigdís
Finnbogadóttir, and how hippies to-
tally suck.
This debut solo album takes in
country-blues (The Silence Of The
Night) , a kinda hoedown rock (
Freeze-out) and purer, Donovan-ish
folk (Carol, She’s A Meadow) in its
flighty meander through familiar,
non-groundbreaking but undoubtedly
excellent songwriting. This is the
kind of thing McCartney would dash
off before breakfasting on weed
sandwiches and writing songs about
frogs and pipes of peace; something
like Don’t Let Her the kind of sound
that Lennon would sing to himself
staggering down the street drunk. It
occasionally misses the mark (Gone
would be better to take its own
advice). But let’s face it; there are
worse influences to have than The
Beatles, and whether lovelorn stomp
or wistful slap-back FX and sparse
acoustica Helgason just about gets it
right more than wrong.
- JOe SHOOMan
I looked it up too; it means the
transitional state between sleep and
waking. Óskar Thorarensen – Jafet
Melge/Inferno 5 – and his son Pan
Thorarensen, aka Beatmakin Troopa,
build on the organic electronic
of Parallel Island with this woozy
long-player, this time produced at
Snæfellsnes all the way over… there.
No, up a bit. There. By that hut. Yup.
That’s the one. The album’s sonics
are smoothly distressing, briny and
occasionally sonambulant-jazz
beautiful, and just when you get a
handle on a theme there’s another
rhythm to focus on. This is the wildly-
wizened warehouse sound of 6am
navel-gazing spliffdom that straddles
generations – thousands of them,
perhaps – and whispers away on the
wind with a hundred other half-formed
dreams.
- JOe SHOOMan
Snorri Helgason Stereo Hypnosis
I’m Gonna Put My Name
On Your Door (2009)
Hypnogogia (2009)
snorrihelgason
Solo stuff suits sixties-shagger,
Sprengjuhöllin’s Snorri, sometimes.
stereohypnosis
Best served chilled
Sykur
Frábært Eða Frábært (2009)
This essentially represents everything
that’s wrong with Icelandic techno: all
flashy cool and glossy sophistication
without having any depth or
songwriting skills to back it up. FEF
wheels through its forty-one and one-
half minutes without offering anything
of value. The guest vocalists provide
some reprieve from the flatness,
including a hilarious contribution
from Erpur Eyvindarson, but in the
end it is the album’s complete lack of
dynamic sound production that does
it in, especially on the drums; there’s
nothing wrong with making a shallow
and repetitive dance album if it sounds
interesting. - SInDRI elDOn
sykurtheband
If only they’d put as much work
into the music and the production
as they did the album name.
“There’s nothing wrong
with making a shallow
and repetitive dance
album if it sounds
interesting.."
...And Finally, Punk Rock
Comes To Iceland
Probably the best pizza
in town
Pizzeria tel. 578 8555 Lækjargata 8 DowntownViking hotel
Viking restaurants
Viking live entertainment
Viking Souveniers
For booking and further information:
Tel.: (+354) 565-1213
vikings@vikingvillage.is - www.vikingvillage.is
Strandgata 55 Hafnarfjordur
Fancy learning more about the Icelandic punk revolution? Seek out Friðrik's Þór feature length documentary
on the subject, Rokk í Reykjavík. And read Dr. Gunni's next GV column, but of course!