Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.11.2011, Blaðsíða 17

“I’m Hazar and I’m going to rock out
for half an hour!” And he did. And
so did we. He has an interesting
take on beat. It’s like he makes them
follow the bassline and the dis-
torted frequency swirls rather then
the other way around. I like that. It
tells me that he tries to approach
the already-done in a new way and
succeeds. From time to time he
threw in some smart poetry samples
while sticking the bass heavy beat
in our faces, but the whole time we
all watched an electronic musician
who dared to have fun with his mu-
sic.
Aðalsteinn Jörundsson,
A Reference Free Review
(Faktorý Ground Floor, Thurs-
day)
Like a lot of others, I was unsure
whether scheduling the Symphony
Orchestra as part of Iceland Air-
waves was a good idea. Does it go
against the festival’s spirit? This is
a valid question. However, I have
come to realise that for a festival
that prides itself on its eclectic and
advanced nature (one that should
pride itself on those things), this is
exactly the colour of the spectrum
that was missing, far more than
Bubbi or any of the geriatric ensem-
ble performing this year. May this
not be the only time Airwaves visi-
tors have the opportunity to expand
their horizons in such a manner.
Haukur S. Magnússon,
I Am Thankful For My Ears
(Harpa Eldborg, Thursday)
The Heavy Experience followed, an
instrumental group led by saxo-
phone, guitar and bass. This is a
band that definitely lived up to their
name—the plodding, earth-shaking
march of a giant diesel-powered
mastodon shook the club. The sax
was capable of ascending the dirge
like a victorious bird of prey, just as
well as it filled in the spaces left by
the reverberations. At times it could
even be surprisingly pretty, capable
of expanding the notes through the
venue to the point of heat death, be-
fore crunching them back together
with a thunderous boom.
Paul Fontaine,
Night Of The Living Dead
(Amsterdam, Sunday)
MuCk @ aMsterdaM By hvalreki
Friðrik Dór was up next up. He for-
tunately brought over a respectable
crowd of younger fans, so the room
was filled one-third when he started
playing. The mood was rising, and
people actually started dancing to
his pumping electronic beats and
R&B style vocals. His chosen style
places rather high requirements of
him in light of his American idols.
And while he did not reach the
superstars’ plateau, he was rather
likeable. If I had to book an act for
your teenager’s school party for to-
morrow, I would totally call Friðrik
Dór! And the day after, maybe the
kid would have forgotten about the
music—the same way as he or she
forgets who he made out with—but
hey: it was fun!
Florian Zühlke,
The Good, The Bad And The
Misplaced
(Harpa Norðurljós, Wednesday)
"But luckily for him, Clock Opera
didn’t suck. In fact they were the
best act of the night. They were
more intense and rocking, and less
melodramatic than what I’ve heard
on their records. It had that hyper-
emotive rousing electro indie that
you’d expect from the likes of Fright-
ened Rabbit. The track 'Once And
For All,' for example, with its glisten-
ing piano synth noise was the sound
of Angel buttsecks, all pure but
dirty at the same time. All the while
the lead singer jerked and twisted
as if he was trying to rid himself of
imaginary bees in his trousers. Now
tUnE-yArDs were great, but this was
the first time that evening I found
myself really grooving and dancing
to the music. Get in!"
Bob Cluness,
Booze, Blood, Bacteria...
(NASA, Friday)
"..But music genres are odious,
especially when it comes to music
journalism. Didn’t Cicero say that?"
Þórður Ingi Jónsson,
In Remembrance Of Biogen...
(Faktorý Main, Thursday)
Half the audience giggle in stunned
confusion, the other half rapt, roll-
ing in the shards of sound, sweating
and grinning at these joyful, brilliant
lunatics who’ve taken over the asy-
lum. This kind of brazen invention is
a far cry from the woefully insipid
opening act – Kreatiivmootor are
the stuff legendary Airwaves per-
formances are made of.
John Rogers,
Kreatiivmootor Smash Music
Into Joyful Sonic...
(Harpa Kaldalón, Thursday)
I was anticipating Forgotten Lores
becoming the best of the night and
boy oh boy did they deliver. It shows
remarkable confidence and belief
in one's music to perform new and
mostly unreleased material when
relying on popular standards to
please everyone and make sure no
one goes home feeling neglected
by the band they came to see is
more often than not the route art-
ists go for at a fests like Airwaves.
Forgotten Lores have balls aplenty,
because they only performed new
shit. Shit that reeked of glory and
awesomeness let me tell ya.
Birkir Fjalar Viðarsson,
A Night Of Hip Hop And Its Bas-
tards
(Gaukurinn, Wednesday)
A storming, charging behemoth
HAM were, standing proud and
tall like the experienced (not old)
statesman of Nordic metal that they
are. What a fucking blast. I was
completely honoured to see them.
What a serious effort. It was music
peering into a deep, dark chasm
of the soul, an abyss of pain and
agony: remorseless, indifferent,
and punishing. Every note fractured
and crushed. Chords incinerated
like napalm, hit after pulsating hit.
Fucking legendary, fucking mono-
lithic, a Roman orgy in hell, a peren-
nial blood bath. Caligula would have
been pleased.
Christopher Czechowicz,
Midnight Gallery
(Art Museum, Friday)
Hers is not a “versus” or “either/or”
comment on technology, environ-
ment, and social welfare; instead,
Björk’s projects beam with careful
and passionate recombinant re-
presentation of the environmental
human as machine, the mechanical
environment as human, the human-
ity in environmental technologies.
With Biophilia, make no mistake:
this is a deeply educational and ac-
tivist artistic gesture.
a.rawlings,
Ecology, Echology, Ecolology
(Harpa Norðurljós, Sunday)
Oh, Berndsen. Not everyone loves
you but I sure do. Yes, on the sur-
face it’s the same reflexively ’80s
dance balladeering as with Kiriyama
but the difference is that Berndsen
knows how to produce some real
earworms, he doesn’t take it seri-
ously at all but at the same time I
never get the feeling that he’s any-
thing less than sincere in his love for
that period in music.
Ragnar Egilsson,
Björkstep And Sufjancore
(NASA, Saturday)
Finally, Stafrænn finished with a
song called Val Kilmer, after telling
a story about a guy who tried to get
a tattoo of Jim Morrison, but mis-
takenly brought in a copy of Oliver
Stone’s The Doors and ended up
with one of Val Kilmer.
Anna Andersen,
Good Work Everyone
(Iðnó, Saturday)
Of Monsters and Men are unasham-
edly indie, which is good if you like
that sort of thing, which I do. They
decorate the stage with Christmas
lights, project century old film clips,
and at one point their accordion
player puts on a wolf mask. Yes,
they have an accordion player. This
is in-your-face indie. "Twee as fuck,"
to quote a phrase. Of Monsters and
Men are a band that is quite easy
to mock, but most musicians that
wear their hearts on their sleeves
are. When I was a sixteen-year-old
indie kid, I would have killed to have
a band like them in Reykjavík. Sure, I
do love me some avant-garde, loud,
dissonant, screechy noise, but it is
a lot of fun to sing along with the
twee kids in the indie band. A lot of
people satisfied that urge tonight.
Kári Tulinius,
“Twee As Fuck!”
(NASA, Thursday)
Niki and the Dove @ Nasa by Sigurður
Ástgeirsson
Mammút at Gaukur á Stöng by Ægir Freyr
Birgisson
HUMAN WOMAN @ FAKTORÝ by Júlía
Hvanndal
Gus Gus @ Kex by Hörður SveinssonEndless Dark @ Gaukur á Stöng by
Alexander Matukhno
OY @ Idnó by Katrín ÓlafsdóttirReykjavík! @ NASA by Magnús Elvar
Jónsson
SBTRKT @ NASA, by Rúnar Sigurður Sig-
urjónsson
Samaris @ NASA by Aníta Eldjárn Retro Stefson @ NASA byAlexander Ma-
tukhno