Reykjavík Grapevine - 12.09.2014, Blaðsíða 21

Reykjavík Grapevine - 12.09.2014, Blaðsíða 21
Reykjavík Art Museum’s Hafnarhús is making more noise than usual. Normally a quiet gallery building, today it’s throbbing with bass, the big glass windows rattling in their frames. Through an open service door, the cavernous main hall ripples with light— against the back of the stage, three huge projected figures made of geometric shapes blossom then deteriorate into mazes and matrices of neon lines. Sound techs run around with arms full of coiled leads, and a battalion of lights strafes the stage through thick mist. The building is warming up for Gusgus to present their latest album ‘Mexico’ in Reyk- javík for the first time. In the somewhat stark dressing room, though, the atmosphere cools down. Birgir Þórarinsson (aka Biggi Veira or Veiran), at this point the only constant and ever-present member in the band’s history, sits on a crate with his legs crossed, non- chalantly sipping a Campari as he waits for his bandmates to arrive for rehearsal. “Hello!” he says, beckoning. “Come in! Welcome!” It’s been almost two decades since Gus- gus first came together, drifting into be- ing in a way that seems preternaturally effortless. Whilst working together on an Icelandic film production that was suf- fering delays, singer Daníel Ágúst, who was an actor in the production, had been playing with electronic composition, and suggested the eclectic group should work together on some music. After a period of play, gestation and experimentation, the revered UK label 4AD heard some recordings and came calling, and the loosely strung collective snapped into fo- cus as a band. The label sent out a black and white panorama-postcard of the band’s full lineup to announce the new signing. Biggi remembers it well. “Our manager was in that picture too,” he says. “We were seven onstage, then—three singers, two of us making the music, and then two doing live visuals. And everyone brought something important to the mix. It was kind of just a collection of interesting people—an experiment. Nobody was too stressed about what it was. We were just having fun with music.” Daníel also remembers the period fondly. “It was a good time, us getting together,” he says. ”It was a very intrigu- ing work environment to have all these talents—ten or twelve creative people, all contributing to the project. We would work on music day and night. I was also in a musical and rehearsing a play—I was sleeping for just two or three hours a day. It was busy, but a lot fun.” Attention “Polyesterday” became a cult hit, es- tablishing the band outside of Iceland as they toured throughout Europe. The band reconvened in Reykjavík after- wards to write and record the follow-up album, ‘This Is Normal’, but as Gusgus became a more formal entity, internal frictions started to surface. “Basically, it was in chaos after the re- cording,” Biggi says. “People had become more aware that this was a band, and that it had become a bigger thing. It came to the surface what each individual wanted to do with music. And there were some clashes when people didn’t totally agree on it. We toured nonetheless, without Hafdís Huld, but basically we realised the band was falling apart.” After the tour, the lineup was deci- mated as people went their separate ways. The core unit of Stephan Stephens- sen (aka Steppi or President Bongo) and Biggi remained, working on a new album with Daníel as their vocal foil, but before the album had reached fruition, Daníel too left, with his mind set on solo work. “I felt like I need- ed to explore more of what music had to of- fer, and I couldn’t go all the way within the realms of Gusgus,” Daníel says. “I had to do it on my own, but we stayed connect- ed—I wrote a song called “Desire” for the ‘Attention’ album, and a song of mine called “Moss” was reworked on ‘Forever.’ And of course, I came back, having kind of masturbated with my deepest musical desires of the time. Those desires change constantly, anyway—I wouldn’t say I’m easily bored, but I do love regenerating what I’m doing, regenerating the ap- proach, looking at what I can do next. It’s an ever-evolving path.” Thin ice For a time, the future seemed uncertain. “When Daníel quit, the album we were planning ground to a halt,” Biggi says. “So we decided to release an album of tracks from T-World, the band Maggi Lego and I had been in before, that was kind of swamped into Gusgus. We had these unreleased songs from ’93 and ’94. If we hadn’t done that album, there’d have been no point in continuing.” Says Daníel, of the band’s crisis point: “The future has been critical a couple of times, sure. When I left in 2000, it was just Biggi and Stephan. There was a point in time where they were thinking, ‘Shall we make this happen, or call it quits?’ But, we’re still here. Des- tiny has played a few tricks on us.” And so, having reached the brink, Gusgus started to gather their strength once more, finding a powerful new singer in Urður Hákonardót- tir (aka Earth). Urður added a new voice and a grounding, femi- nine stage presence. It was around this time that another future member, Högni Egilson, first became acquainted with the band he’d later join. “I’d heard of them in the ‘90s, as this crazy art collective,” Högni says, “but I only saw Gusgus for the first time in 2005, during the ‘Attention’ period. It was a ‘Wow!’ moment. Earth was with them, and Steppi Steph was at the front. He was talking to a pineapple, and had this long hair, and these funky clothes with lots of neon, and they played “Da- vid,” which was a big hit in Iceland. It was played at our school ball and stuff. I liked their presence, their characters—they had this grandeur about them.” Sustain When Earth dipped out of the band in 2008, Biggi and President Bongo called upon Daníel once again, asking him to help develop a new direction influenced by what was happening in German tech- This Is Not The First Time We’ve Seen Change Gusgus on reaching the brink, and coming back stronger Words by John Rogers Photos by Brynjar Snær “When Daníel quit in 2000, the album we were planning ground to a halt. So we decided to release an album of tracks from T-World, the band Maggi Lego and I had been in before. If we hadn’t done that album, there’d have been no point in continuing.”
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