Reykjavík Grapevine - 23.05.2014, Blaðsíða 31

sushisamba
Þingholtsstræti 5 • 101 Reykjavík
Tel 568 6600 • sushisamba.is
Laugavegur
HverfisgataL
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ta
Sk
ól
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ho
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Skólavörðust.
Amtmannsstígur
In
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Lækjar-
torg
Our kitchen is open
17.00–23.00 sun.–thu.
17.00–24.00 fri.–sat.
Amazing
6 course menu
Starts with a shot of the Icelandic
national spirit “Brennivín“
Arctic char
with cucumber andcoriander
Smoked puffin
with yuzu mayo
Minke whale
with celeriac purée
Reindeer burger
with portobello mushroom
Icelandic free range lamb fillet
with cinnamon potato
And to end on a high note ....
“Skyr“ panna cotta with white chocolate
and raspberry sorbet
6.990 kr.

A unique Icelandic Feast
MADE IN ICELAND www.jswatch.com
With his legendary concentration and 45 years of experience our Master
Watchmaker ensures that we take our waterproofing rather seriously.
Gilbert O. Gudjonsson, our Master Watchmaker and renowned craftsman,
inspects every single timepiece before it leaves our workshop.
31The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 06 — 2014 MUSIC
Album
Reviews
Kaleo
Kaleo
2014
www.facebook.com/theband.kaleo
A kickass cruise on
reinvented wheels
If you think Kings of Leon,
the Black Keys and the White
Stripes are all purveyors of
derivative trash, then there’s a new
purveyor on the scene for you to hate.
If, on the other hand, you think they’re
refreshingly straightforward examples
of what God intended for mankind
when he invented the electric guitar,
then rejoice, because the boys of Kaleo
do it similarly, and they do it very, very
well.
Though the band’s debut album
plays things mostly safe, it also makes
its larger-than-life ambitions crystal
clear, straddling the fence between lo-
fi garage and grandiose arena rock so
intimately that it threatens to rip a hole
in its already ripped jeans. The first six
tracks are pure, awesome rock’n’roll,
a whirlwind of swirling guitar licks
and crashing cymbals. The opening
number, “Glass House,” is the album in
a melodious nutshell, as lead guitarist
Rubin Pollock’s staccato picking
weaves in and out of Jökull Júlíusson
half-growled vocals. The lyrics are
sometimes throwaway—two minutes
into the song, bah-bah-bahs simply
begin to replace real words—but that
hardly matters when they’re delivered
in Jökull’s surprisingly soulful voice.
That voice also goes a long way on the
album’s most daring track, “Broken
Bones,” an electrified chain-gang
tune that couldn’t possibly have been
written by two white boys in Iceland,
yet somehow was. “I went down deep
Texas, Mississippi state / Hoping things
might go my way / For every hard-
earned dollar I made / There stands a
white man just to take it away,” Jökull
sings. The downbeat backing vocals
and the tambourine rattling away like
leg shackles provide the lyrics with a
fitting exclamation mark.
The last five tracks ratchet down
the tempo even further and play up
the crowd-pleasing closeness. Each
song in this set sounds distinct, from
bluesy romance (“Pour Sugar On
Me”) to semi-acoustic, wind-in-your-
hair road music (“Automobile”) to
folk ballad (“Vor í Vaglaskógi”). The
moods evoked are contemplative,
almost worshipful. As with the opening
numbers, there’s not a single note out
of place. It’s hard to tell which half of
the album obscurantist music critics
will hate more, but I suspect the answer
is the second.
That’s their problem though,
because Kaleo promises big things. For
a debut from young guys, this record
perfectly demonstrates both writing
and playing chops. If their sophomore
album is as individual as this one is
rocking, then it’ll be a real treat, and a
deserved bestseller, too.
- JONATHAN PATTISHALL
Chili And
The Whalekillers
Turn
2014
www.chiliandthewhalekillers.com
No spice or heat in this
vanilla.
OK kids, some marketing
semiotics 101 for you. When
you see the cover of ‘Turn,’
the debut album from Chili
And The Whalekillers, you’ll see a rather
pernicious trend known as the “indie
band in a field” syndrome. Scrubbed up
boys plonked in some nondescript piece
of pastoral nature is meant to infer both
them and their music with signs of purity,
wholesomeness, something unspoilt. But
after hearing the sterility of the contents
of this album, the only thing I could think
about was ordering some tarmac and
turning that field into a sodding car park.
Make no mistake: ‘Turn’ may sound
preppy, puppy faced, and full of fair-
trade goodness, but underneath this
veneer lays the deadened heart of utter
mediocrity. And that actually takes a fair
amount of skill to do, when you think
about it. They may be Icelandic ex-pats in
Austria but this is US WASP coastalcore
all the way, with West coast slackarsed
surf do-wop with East coast shadow-
of-Vampire-Weekend guitar chops that
blend into a mass of nothingness, the
musical equivalent of chaff in the wind.
However, these guys seem to be under
the impression that mere competency in
their hooks marks their songs as deep
and meaningful. The liner notes talk of
their songs being about “leftovers of
love affairs, dreams, and political ideals.”
They even have books on Marx and The
Sailors Guide (?) in their studio. All right I
suppose, if it was the big dumb colouring
book of Marx, because songs such as
“Marilyn” are witless attempts at social
commentary, while the extent of their
distaste at the state of modern living going
as far as making the end of “The Villa By
The Sea” a bit louder with a mumblecore
monologue so far down the mix you can’t
make anything out even after numerous
attempts. Dangerous!
Even though Chili and his gang
dearly want the “multi-media anarchists,”
they talk about on “Faraway” on their side,
you know deep down that the people they
meekly mock in “The Villa By The Sea” are
the ones most likely to be into this nice-y,
polite, self-regarding, ineffectual chuff.
- BOB CLUNESS