Reykjavík Grapevine - 29.07.2011, Síða 39

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39
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 11 — 2011
The Grapevine visits the G! Festival
FUN IN THE FAROESE
a saw and a violin bow. Always a sucker
for strange noises, and I thought it was
a shame at that point that they hadn't
just got on with it in the first place.
Gipsy Train: Despite the considerable
effort to be cool, with the backing sing-
ers smoking on stage and a bottle of
wine being passed about, these boys
pulled off their ‘cool’ mostly because of
their sheer joy at playing together, what
could have looked embarrassing but
was just lovely. Young, handsome and
topless, strutting about the stage, the
lead singer couldn’t go wrong. A lanky,
longhaired boy pointing his walking
stick poignantly into the crowd, imi-
tating a permanently drunk fisherman
who tells stories to everyone who walks
by, added a comedic element. The
brass section created a much-needed
musical effect. The stand out act in this
band, however, was the one who wasn’t
in it. The singer’s sister, Lív Næs, who
was, to invoke Borat, ‘very nice,’ joined
them on stage with a guitar. Amidst the
chaotic set, she held the audience cap-
tivated, and not only because they had
to look twice to check she wasn't Eivør.
Taking inspiration from the trembling
vocal sound of the traditional Faroese a
cappella, her voice has the quiet power
of a soul singer. She might have stolen
the show if the band hadn't been so fun
to party with.
Petur Pólson: Rock that hits the spot.
Lyrical melodies and the ability to take
you up and bring you down in the same
stroke. It's hard to believe that a small
rotund man in a chequered shirt can
generate this much power. The two
drummers, facing each other, are not
only a good gimmick but add a sense
of drive to the music. The final number
‘I Sail Home’ is an emotive song with a
harrowing harmony, which sounds like
a conversation between a daughter
looking across the horizon for a father
lost at sea.
Budam: You have to see him to believe
it. Simply, magical. The highlight was
the story that he told about the local
Faroese preacher from Skarvaness
called Moses, who asked his followers
to go to Israel. “They said, but Moses,
there’s a big fuck off ocean between
the Faroe Islands and Israel. Now this
Moses wasn’t THE Moses, but he came
up with an even better solution…a bi-
cycle ship.” Cue a funny, ethereal, sex-
ual tune that invited a chorus of hypno-
tised festivalgoers to join in.
Travis: For a band I don’t like, they were
okay. ‘Why Does it Always Rain on Me?’
became the most appropriate song of
the day as it poured down consistently.
A great headlining act for a population
that enjoys sing-alongs, and we turned,
turned, turned and sang, sang, sang the
night out.
SATURDAY: Laksagriling, Astrid Samu-
elsen, Lív & the Zoo, The Shallow Man,
Cody, Benjamin, Skálmöld, Orka, Guðrið
Hansdóttir, Blind Boys of Alabama, The
Tennessee Mafia Jug Band, Týr, Sugar
Daddy & Honey Pie, Hellzapoppin, Lorne
Ashley, Páll Finnur Páll, Brynjolfur, Hallur
Joensen, Sexy Lazer.
Skálmöld: Viking Metal has always
struck me as a bit cringing, but the
band was a steady force to be reckoned
with. With a tight set, they delivered a
solid performance.
Orka: An oil drum duck-taped onto a
chair was just one of the many home
made instruments that produced a
strange disharmony with the vocals.
Creating a heavy, percussive, multi-
layered sound, the band plunges itself
into your body and takes over.
Blind Boys of Alabama: The beach
flooded, and those blind boys led us
onto the ark. This legendary gospel
quintet absolutely stole the show. They
may be old but their soulful harmonies
and quivering command turned even
the most devout atheists into believers,
if only for an hour. The crowd lapped it
up, and even if the stage had sunk, the
crowd would have swum towards that
sweet sweet sound.
The Tennessee Mafia Jug Band: Real
life hillbillies from Nashville, Tennessee.
And yes, there is a jug. Funny, melan-
cholic and slightly ridiculous, the fellas
brought warmth to a chilly night. Un-
fortunately and surprisingly to my inno-
cent ears, there was a so-called 'coon
song', referring to popular, racist songs
that supported segregation in early
twentieth century America. The song
"Driving out the coons" unsurprisingly
drove out some of the crowd. I'm sure
the ones who stayed thought they were
singing about raccoons, but the notice-
able chill in the audience at that point
had little to do with the weather.
“Well, I’m sick, sober and sorry, but
look at the fun that we’ve had.”
Hellzapoppin: Closing the festival with a
man balancing a child on a chair on his
mouth, a fire eater, a wolf-man and a
girl who catches darts with her bottom
was so wrong it was right.
The G! Festival is a unique and up-
lifting experience, however much it
rains. There were a few standout acts,
but what never failed was the incred-
ible elation of the crowds, only matched
in scale by Gøta's breathtaking land-
scape.
Air Iceland operates flights the Faroe Islands.
Book flight at www.airiceland.is or in phone +354-5703000