Reykjavík Grapevine - 07.01.2006, Side 35
where
whO
whEN
Stúdentakjallar-
inn
Benni Hemm
Hemm and
Reykjavík!
December
22th 2005
Walking into Hressó on December 21st to see a
Þórir gig, it felt a bit like New Year’s Day—the party
had obviously already happened, and Reykjavík! was
entirely responsible. While there was a universal view
that Reykjavík! were “morons”, there was disagreement
as to whether this was a bad thing, with most of the
people who didn’t work at the bar arguing in favour of
the behaviour.
Knowing this, we set out for Reykjavík!’s next
show at Stúdentakjallarinn, where the walls are a little
less fragile, early. Into the first number, I was glad
to have concrete walls. Into the second, I wished it
was padded. Reykjavík! are the single least coordi-
nated band I have ever seen—for a 45-minute set, the
rhythm guitarist Gummi accidentally unplugged his
guitar no less than eight times. Lead guitarist Haukur,
or lead rhythm guitarist, fell down. A lot. But Haukur
and bassist Valdi kept the music churning, and the one
member of Reykjavík! blessed with a minimal level
of coordination tested this by jumping from chair to
chair. The jumping was cool, especially when done just
as Haukur was falling, as odds dictated would happen.
(I’m not being cruel: Haukur explained that he loses
balance when he plays guitar, that he “Can’t feel [his]
legs]” but that this doesn’t stop him from dancing,
hence falling.)
The falling was fun, especially when Haukur
slammed onto his own guitar and borrowed a pricey
guitar from headlining band Benni Hemm Hemm,
only to fall on it immediately. (After the gig he swore
to me that he “fell with it”—my viewing angle may
have been obstructed, so I have to allow for this.)
Reykjavík! were indeed like New Year’s Eve:
sloppy and messy and kind of fun, but after the experi-
ence of the show, I couldn’t remember one riff, one
melody, one bit of rhythm, or one lyric that had drawn
me in.
You would think Benni Hemm Hemm would be the
polar opposite: Benedikt Hermannsson is the quiet
type, and his lyrics and the basic melody are the key
to a Hemm Hemm show, or at least to his remarkable
first CD. For this Christmas show, however, Benni
brought out some wacky other side. And a 14-piece
band. One member of the band was decidedly pissed
from the get-go, I should point out, because something
had happened to his guitar. Still, the band cut loose—
given that Stúdentakjallarinn isn’t a large venue, and it
has concrete walls, a 14-piece band was able to work
up quite a frenzy. Truthfully, this proved a disservice
to the melodies on all but the last few tracks of the
night. The vibe was often similar to nights in Madison,
Wisconsin when the marching band would turn up at
the bars and play rock numbers—fun, but somehow
empty, for all its raucousness.
Benni’s vocals were unable to stand up to the
sheer volume of the evening. It wasn’t a night for low
tenor melodies. Surprisingly, it did become a night
for hip hop: guest vocalist, Grapevine comic artist and
playwright Hugleikur Dagsson unleashed an adept,
whirlwind hip hop performance. Playing the laid back
band leader, Benni seemed content to let the show get
stolen, a graceful gesture on a night when people need-
ed a party more than they really needed a performance.
By Bart Cameron | Photos by Gúndi
Sturdy Bar Required
Some bands are possessed of an eerie, if not very
adventurous, talent: The ability to sound almost exactly
the same live as they do on record. Worm Is Green is
definitely such a band. They relied completely on the
atmosphere of the venue and of their music to set the
scene, and it is to their credit that this almost worked.
There was, however, a rather large hole in this plan:
the music, as well as the venue, was about as exciting as
finding an old, damp sock under your pillow.
Slow, quiet melodies that possessed neither a hint
of ambition nor originality bounced listlessly off the
plain concrete walls and the equally plain audience; my
scowl at the rape of Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us
Apart was quite possibly the most animated gesture
during the entire set, the band’s actions included.
Stage presence must be a dirty word in the Akranes
music scene. Perhaps they merely needed a bit more
time; Synthia, their last song of the evening, gracefully
accomplished what seem to be their musical goals: hol-
low, minute synth melodies coupled with finely-craft-
ed, idiosyncratic lyrics about loneliness and depressed
robots. They even shifted their weight from one foot to
the other when they really got into it.
It’s intriguing to consider what a typical Icelandic
band Bang Gang are. They consist of an eccentric
frontman, an attractive, sweet-voiced female singer
and a few members of Ensími (you can’t throw a rock
at the Icelandic music scene without hitting one); all
are in their late twenties or early thirties. They have a
modicum of dress sense and have achieved a meas-
ure of popularity in France with their self-indulgent,
brooding yet ‘intellectual’ music that is unremarkable
in every way, save for the fact that it was written by
Icelandic people.
They also had the dubious distinction of perform-
ing covers that far outshone any of their own compo-
sitions; The Supremes’ Stop In The Name Of Love
rocked in a way it was never intended to, and The
Stooges’ I Want To Be Your Dog was predictable,
but entertaining. Most endearing of all, however, was
their final encore: a mostly improvised rendition of Lee
Hazlewood’s Summer Wine, during which it became
abundantly clear that their lead singer, Barði, was by
far the worst singer of the lot, but in the end, it was
he who saved the night with the completely retarded
witticisms he delivered between songs.
Among his anecdotes were a recent incident
involving him dropping his cellphone into a toilet,
only to read about it in a local paper the next day, and
a quick course on how to end your song with a cleverly
timed drum break. Other band members were not as
fortunate when it came to their own recitals; bassist
Guðni’s tale was made completely inaudible by the fact
that an incredibly loud drum solo was being per-
formed simultaneously. Ah, if only Barði’s music could
outshine his hacksaw wit, but that would be asking
too much. All in all, it was an adequate night, where
everyone did more or less what was expected of them,
although it would have been great without all that
pesky original music. Tame.
By Sindri Eldon
Atmospheric Basement
where
whO
whEN
Stúdentakjallar-
inn
Bang Gang and
Worm is Green
December
10th 2005
sushi
[LÆKJARGATA]