Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.12.2011, Síða 20

Live at Skólavörðustíg 15:
Friday 02.12.
kl. 17.30 Dikolson (CZ)
Thursday 08.12.
kl. 18.00 Reptilicus & Auxpan (collaborative set)
MERRY CHRISTMAS
IN THE 12 TÓNAR CD SHOPS
BUY YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENTS IN 12 TÓNAR
– WE HAVE ALL THE ICELANDIC RELEASES AND MUCH MUCH MORE.
Live in Harpa –
the Undercurrent Concert Series in co-operation with Harpa:
Friday 02.12.
kl. 17.30 Náttfari & Plastic Gods
Friday 09.12.
kl. 17.30 Samaris & Mr. Silla
The concerts start at 17.30 at Kaldalón in Harpa
– free entrance for all
20
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 18 — 2011
We are in a small church, beside
a small lake, in a small city in the
far, far North. On a not-so cold No-
vember night, Christ, arms aloft in
a gesture of welcome (or an at-
tempt to kill his followers with his
likely funky body odour), is lambent
with red and green disco lights,
which rotate in mesmerising pat-
terns across his image. A girl in a
red dress is singing in a soft, sweet
voice the poetry of her forebears.
Thus the stage is set for the release
concert of ‘Brostinn Stregur,’ the most
recent album by Lay Low, singer/song-
writer Lovísa Elísabet Sigrúnardóttir of
local (and even a bit of international)
renown. The church, Fríkirkjan on
Lækjargata, proved to be a good set-
ting for the concert and matched well
to the extraordinarily laid back sound
of Lay Low herself. The band provided
the aforementioned disco lights, and
the stage was further decorated with
lamps of the kind usually found in your
grandparent’s living room. Tassels
abounded. This cosy feeling, combined
with the happy-family interactions of
the band members made for a pleas-
ant, chilled out show.
The concert started off a bit on the
slow side atmosphere-wise, but once
things got warmed up it was all very
down-home nice, the most awesome
moment being when Lovísa left the
stage to go and hug her grandparents
(who have just moved back to Iceland
from Portugal in case you wanted to
know). Lovely.
Obviously, the focus was on songs
from the new album, ‘Brostinn Stren-
gur’ (which is made up of songs based
on poems by Icelandic female poets),
and the album seems to continue down
the same twangy, lonesome Americana
path, through which Lay Low has made
her name, though with a somewhat
more complex and harder sound com-
ing through, some songs even having
a bit of an electronic feel (woo). The
classics were also performed, mixing
things up a bit, which was nice.
If there are any complaints it would
be that the seats at Fríkirkjan are in-
sanely uncomfortable, and if they want
to hire their church out be used by peo-
ple other than masochistic church go-
ers, then maybe they should consider
a more comfortable seating arrange-
ment. Overall though, it was a good
concert. Nothing to amaze, but homey
and cosy and all that, and though this
isn’t usually seen as a good thing, I
found it cool that it was music that
could justify eyes-shut listening.
Homey
And
Cosy
Music | Live review Music | CD review
This review is from Lay Low’s album release concert on Friday, No-
vember 18 at Fríkirkjan.
As most people on Grapevine’s Face-
book will know, I recently had the mis-
fortune of losing my cat. True, in the
grand scheme of disasters from war
and genocide, to massive tsunamis,
we’re talking strictly first world prob-
lems here. But fuck that. I LOVE that
little troll of a fuzzball. And when he
went missing for days, there seemed
to be a gray emptiness that squatted
right in the middle of our lives. It was
a truly stressful and miserable time in
our house.
After about three days of him being
missing, I go to work as usual. While
working, and to cheer myself up a bit, I
put on ‘Biophilia.’ Like many, I had heard
all the breathless commentary that ac-
companied this release. The three years
spent working on the album with the
likes of Apple and National Geographic.
The myriad of release formats, includ-
ing an education workshop for children
and bespoke iApple apps that allowed
you to control and manipulate the mu-
sic. The world tour of eight city resi-
dencies. The custom built instruments,
spectacular stage show and costumes.
That with this album, she was redefin-
ing music, blah, blah, blah. Personally, I
didn´t care for it all to be honest. It just
seemed that people were talking about
everything BUT the music, as if it were
a mere afterthought.
But I admit that the album had started
to grow on me after several listens. I
could see the attraction of the album
being used as an educational tool for
children. With tracks such as ‘Mutual
Core’ and ‘Virus,’ you could truly hear
the wonder in her voice, singing of sci-
ence, space, nature and the human
body. It’s that same kind of desire for
learning that kids have at a young age
when they see something that’s cool
and amazing, and they want to know
MORE. There’s no “FUCKING magnets,
how do they work?” going on here.
So I put the album on and listen. The
first track ‘Moon,’ with its intro of lightly
plucked strings, brings mental images
of the old children’s television show
‘Bagpuss’ for some inexplicable reason.
The next track, ‘Thunderbolt,’ contains
elephantine synths, as if Bach were
in charge of the alien communication
scene from Close Encounters. This is
followed by ‘Crystalline,’ a song of con-
trolled beats and child-like melodies,
that forgets to take its meds in the last
minute, going all whacked-out junglist
on me.
And then the album arrives at ‘Cos-
mogony.’ Starting on a choir whose
sound seems to act like an angelic
comfort blanket, a warm mournful
brass feel comes into play (like Jóhann
Jóhannsson, Björk knows there’s soul
in brass). I find myself listening intently
as Björk sings of different creation
myths with a tune and vocals that seem
almost hymnal. The chorus rises up and
swoops around my brain, and... and...
And I start to cry.
We’re not talking misty eyed or a
lump in the throat. I’m actually crying.
I’m fucking losing it! I quickly walk to
the toilets before anyone can see me,
where I spend the next five minutes
with tears streaming down my eyes and
a rope of snot coming out of my nose,
all the while the song is still playing. I
have to take my headphones off and
clean myself up. After a while, I return
to work, looking like someone had just
crawled inside and yanked my soul out
through my eyes.
What the fuck just happened there?
Since when did I suddenly turn all emo?
I’ve NEVER cried to music before in my
life. Sure, in the past music has made
me happy to the point of giddiness. It’s
also made me sad, relaxed, depressed,
angry to the point of violence, even
made me want to jump and dance in
an instant (case in point—while listen-
ing to ‘Locust Sounds’ from Reykjavík!,
the chorus of ‘Hellbound Heart’ is such
a finely tuned piece of ROCK action, I
found myself fist pumping to it while
in the meat section of my local Bónus
supermarket. True story). But no music
has ever made me physically cry, until
now.
And it’s not as if I could call myself
a massive fan of Björk. Sure, I truly be-
lieve that she is probably the last in her
generation of peers still hungry to push
new ideas and boundaries. And there
have been many of her tracks that I’ve
really loved, such as ‘Human Behav-
iour,’ Hyperballad,’ ‘Declare Indepen-
dence,’ etc. But often I’ve found that I
end up approaching her music with a
certain cold detachment, music that’s
more an exercise of the head, rather
than the heart.
So what does this mean? God, I wish
I knew. All I know is that ‘Biophilia’ is
an album that scares me. No, scare is
not the right word—wary is probably
better. I’m not sure that this was Björk’s
intention when she wrote it, but she
seems to have made an album that in
one small moment, reached into my in-
ner psyche and flayed at my anima until
it can’t take any more. I can now listen
to ‘Cosmogony,’ but I find that I have to
steel myself to the point of numbness,
just in case I find myself welling up
again. Man, Nico’s ‘The Marble Index’
is a walk in the park with puppies com-
pared to this.
Björk has made a piece of music
about science, the cosmos, and hu-
man life that has etched a carving on
my mental landscape that many local
musicians, for all their nice tunes and
ditties, will NEVER get anywhere close
to repeating.
Damn you Björk. Damn you for mak-
ing me feel this way.
- bOb CLUNESS
PHOTO by ARI MAGG
björk
Biophilia
www.bjork.com
Woman creates superb album about
the grand order of things, makes
grown man cry. Job done.
bERGRúN ANNA HALLSTEINSdóTTIR
LUKáš jANICíK
“Overall though, it was a good concert. Nothing to amaze,
but homey and cosy and all that”
“And I start to cry. We’re not
talking misty eyed or a lump
in the throat. I’m actually
crying. I’m fucking losing it!
I quickly walk to the toilets
before anyone can see me,
where I spend the next five
minutes with tears streaming
down my eyes”