Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.10.2014, Síða 70

T H E R E Y K J A V Í K G R A P E V I N E I C E L A N D A I R W A V E S S P E C I A L18
And it sounded good. The initial acts an-
nounced were big, exciting ones. More
importantly, they were current as fuck,
instead of the dried-out, washed-up art-
ists Icelanders had grown used to host-
ing. Underworld would be there. The
Prodigy. Our very own Björk. These were
artists that young people were actually
listening to and enjoying on a daily basis.
International media was interested! And
the whole shebang was set to go on in a
beautiful valley in the Icelandic country-
side, lined by cliffs, waterfalls and green
fields.
Fuck the mainstream
“This is a cultural event, not an outdoor
drinking festival,” UXI’s promoters
stressed in the media (and make no mis-
take: the festival was big news). Perhaps
to that end, the festival’s website stated
that fans of certain local mainstream
pop groups, like Stjórnin and Vinir Vors
og Blóma (typical Merchants’ Holiday
drunkfest bands), would be denied entry
to the festival grounds, noting this was
not to be yet another bout of mindless en-
tertainment for the masses to get wasted
to. No sir. This was an ambitious artistic
event on an unprecedented scale. In con-
trast, the popular Merchants’ Weekend
festivals at the time all followed the same
formula, offering basic camping sites, lo-
cal pop groups and covers acts and the
chance to get wasted on gallons of al-
cohol (this is, sadly, still the paradigm).
Such Bacchanalian events endure to this
day, the most popular one remaining the
Westmann Islands’ “Þjóðhátíð” festival.
A few weeks before UXI was to com-
mence, issues arose that put the whole
endeavour in jeopardy. Perhaps spurred
by initial negative publicity (in Ice-
land, electronic music had already been
branded as “drug music”), government
agencies put forth demands that the or-
ganisers pay a 24.5% VAT on each ticket
sold, a much higher percentage than
comparable events were usually made to
pay. This reeked of discrimination, a lack
of acknowledgement for electronic music
as a “proper” genre. Such demands were
not made of local jazz or classical events.
Despite fervent complaints, the Icelan-
dic Tax Director failed to acknowledge
UXI’s organisers’ point of view and the
matter remained unresolved. No excep-
tions were made, the festival’s initial bud-
geting efforts rendered meaningless by
the stroke of a pen.
The ox and the rabbit
UXI ’95 was the brainchild of one Kris-
tinn Sæmundsson, most often referred to
as Kiddi Kanína (“Kiddi The Rabbit”) due
to his speedy decision-making skills. At
the time, he ran a successful independent
record store (Hljómalind) in 101 Reykja-
vík, along with promoting various events
and concerts, and publishing zines, self-
lessly working to spread the word on new
artists and genres in his still-isolated
homeland. UXI was but one of his many
projects, a lot of which turned out to be
pivotal for Icelandic music in general. For
example, he was one of the early champi-
ons of a little known art-rock band called
Sigur Rós, orchestrating the release of
their pivotal LP ‘Ágætis
byrjun’ and an accom-
panying tour around
Iceland in 1999. Among
other acts he brought
to Iceland in the late
90s were The Prodigy,
Saint Etienne, Will
Oldham, Trans Am,
Fugazi, Modest Mouse,
Shellac and many more.
Creating UXI ‘95, a
world-class interna-
tional festival in Ice-
land, he was joined by
former Sugarcube Ein-
ar Örn Benediktsson
and a slew of friends
and followers.
While the promoters soldiered on
despite setbacks, further problems arose
just a few days before UXI ’95 was to kick
off, as police seized 100 forged tickets
from an entrepreneurial young con man.
This, doubled with some very vocal pub-
lic concerns that UXI ‘95 was a drug-fest
in the making, worried the parents of
potential attendees (this was on the heels
of Iceland’s first major drug scare)—in-
deed, the newly formed youth drug pre-
vention organisation Jafningjafræðslan
(“The Peer Educators”) was especially
outspoken against the festival. “Some
of the foreign artists performing at UXI
are considered drug-friendly, especially
toward ecstasy,” was a common media
talking point. Indeed, 1995 marked the
peak of Iceland’s ecstasy frenzy, and local
authorities made the most of it, empha-
sizing the drug’s connection to certain
genres of music.
Enter the festival
The weather forecast was decent (15°C,
with an occasional drizzle). The organis-
ers were expecting around 10,000 guests.
Circumstances were promising for Ice-
land’s first international music festival to
rival Europe’s Readings and Roskildes.
However, in the end only 4,000–
5,000 showed up for UXI ’95. The festi-
val’s disappointing attendance numbers
might perhaps be blamed on the im-
mensely negative coverage it received
from the Icelandic media—which latched
on to the idea of “a drug-crazed festi-
val”—and parents’ subsequently under-
standable concerns.
Whatever the reason, and despite
disappointing ticket sales, the line-up
was a real treat for fans of electronic mu-
sic. The Prodigy, Aphex Twin and Atari
Teenage Riot—some of the biggest elec-
tro acts of the time—all performed in a
tiny, picturesque town with a population
of 100. Rumours were even circulating
that KLF would stage a major comeback
at the festival—how-
ever the promoters
eventually stated
that the legendary
band’s demands had
just been too much
(among them, that the
festival import a thir-
teen-tonne Saracen
tank, a six-wheeled
armoured personnel
carrier normally used
by the British army).
Despite some for-
midable obstacles, the
festival went ahead
as planned, and the
guests enjoyed them-
selves immensely.
Traditional Icelandic binge drinking of
course marked the atmosphere, but at
UXI ’95 it was elevated by a much higher
quality of music for the crowd to enjoy.
The morning sun greeted tired 24-hour
party people with a beautiful ground
mist each morning, and an overall ap-
preciation and excitement for the oc-
casion lifted the crowd’s spirits. We
finally had an actual international elec-
tronic music festival; remember, this
was a first, way before Airwaves and
Sónar and all the rest.
The music
Imagine: UXI ’95 is in full swing, and
Björk arrives a few hours before her set,
having performed in Detroit the night
before. She had been transported from
the US, along with her opening act,
Aphex Twin, to Kirkjubæjarklaustur, on
a chartered private jet. Her performance
commences right before midnight on the
Saturday, the crowd pumping with ex-
citement. And everything that could pos-
sibly go wrong, did go wrong. Her evident
touring fatigue played a large role, but
the main culprit was the computers she
relied on in her set. Still, Björk was the
only artist who managed to fill the entire
venue at UXI, the only other ones coming
close being Atari Teenage Riot and The
Prodigy.
Before Björk performed, electronic
music legend Aphex Twin gave a weird
DJ set, with most of those awaiting the
queen of Icelandic pop puzzled at how
they should react to his distorted polka
music (complete with signature screech-
es). After Björk, a minimal, relatively
unknown dub-techno band called Ban-
dulu took the stage. The story was that
their agent somehow managed to nag the
promoters into giving them the slot after
Björk. The venue emptied quite fast when
they began playing, although their music
and performance was generally well re-
ceived by the few who stayed.
The Prodigy was popular among
Icelandic guests, who were still reeling
from the release of their now-legendary
sophomore LP, ‘Music For the Jilted
Generation,’ the year prior. Upon arrival
to Iceland, the band was greeted by Ice-
landic customs and kept at bay for a few
hours, causing a delay in UXI’s schedule.
Rumour has it that the band members
were initially furious about this interfer-
ence, refusing to take the stage, and that
the organisers had to carefully negotiate
them back on the bill. This apparently
worked; they did their thing and the
crowd loved it.
Aftermath
The festival received mostly positive
media coverage. But not entirely. Stöð 2
News notoriously aired a clip of a male
festivalgoer receiving, erm, “oral plea-
sures,” which caused quite the uproar.
Public drunkenness was prominent, the
drink of choice being homebrewed vod-
ka. Despite the drug scare, only around
30 drug-related cases came up during
the festival (one of them involving a very
prominent British musician). Most of
them involved narcotics intended for pri-
vate consumption, with one local placed
under arrest for dealing packets of Pills-
bury flour, which he claimed contained
extremely pure cocaine.
Despite all this, local police later re-
marked that they were quite satisfied
with the organisation of the festival
and its guests’ behaviour. Meanwhile, a
spokesperson for Vímulaus æska (“Drug-
free Youth,” a volunteer group campaign-
ing against teen alcohol and drug abuse)
expressed deep concerns about the event,
as according to him, one of the nights had
been given the moniker “Samfaranóttin
mikla” (“The Great Night Of Sexual En-
counters”). And that troubled him deeply
for some reason. The phrase, it was later
revealed, had been casually coined by
a reporter for a British newspaper, The
Evening Standard, who was in atten-
dance, after he witnessed more than he
had anticipated.
In the aftermath, rumours about the
festival’s purportedly extravagant budget
circulated, fuelling talks about unneces-
sary expenditures. For example, 1.7 mil-
lion ISK were reportedly spent on the jet
that brought Björk and Aphex Twin over
from the US.
Whether those rumours are true or
not is hard to say, but simple math still
reveals that UXI ’95 was run at a huge
financial loss—indeed, in the end of 1996,
Uxi Ehf, the LLC behind the endeavour,
declared bankruptcy. Whether it was due
to the setbacks experienced or simple
planning and budgeting follies by entry-
level festival promoters remains a mys-
tery, but one can’t help wondering what
would have been for UXI and the Icelan-
dic electro scene had the festival found its
legs and kept going...
UXI '95 was Icelanders’ first attempt
to stage an international music festival,
and it was very much of its time. The
festival’s stated goal was to promote Ice-
land—and it worked. An envoy of over
50 international press representatives
attetnded, and UXI (and subsequently
Iceland) received widespread attention
in the international media; for instance,
MTV’s Party Zone dedicated an entire
episode to it.
Soon after, international popstars
started frequenting Iceland, stopping
by for a drink on their way across the
Atlantic. Though it was an anomaly for
1990s Iceland, still steeped in centuries
of isolation, some directly credit UXI for
opening up the island and exposing it to
global music talent, the results of which
still linger.
On June 29, 1995, an advertisement appeared in every Ice-
landic newspaper. It announced a large-scale, international
open-air music festival that was to take place five weeks later
in Kirkjubæjarklaustur, a small town in the south of Iceland. It
would feature big, international artists—artists that young peo-
ple actually liked. For youthful lovers of electronic music, the
first weekend in August, the annual Merchants’ Holiday week-
end, was suddenly and surprisingly something to look forward
to. This was big news. UXI ’95 was born.
WORDS BY JÓNAS GUÐMUNDSSON
PHOTOS BY EINAR FALUR INGÓLFSSON
“Stöð 2 News notorious-
ly aired a clip of a male
festivalgoer receiving,
erm, “oral pleasures,”
which caused quite the
uproar.”
As Yet Another Iceland Airwaves Festival
Looms On The Horizon, We Present The
Tale Of Its Spiritual Predecessor, Iceland’s
First International Music Festival: Uxi ’95
Uxi = You x I