Reykjavík Grapevine - 23.05.2014, Síða 31

Reykjavík Grapevine - 23.05.2014, Síða 31
sushisamba Þingholtsstræti 5 • 101 Reykjavík Tel 568 6600 • sushisamba.is Laugavegur HverfisgataL æ kj ar ga ta Sk ól as tr æ ti Þ in g ho lt ss tr æ ti Skólavörðust. Amtmannsstígur In g ó lf ss tr æ ti 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

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