Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.12.2011, Blaðsíða 20

Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.12.2011, Blaðsíða 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”
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