Reykjavík Grapevine - 22.05.2015, Blaðsíða 15

As we munch on BBQ, I find it hard to
fathom that these playful youngsters
are the same ones I witnessed whipping
the crowd at metal fest Eistnaflug into
such a frenzy that it begat a rare vortex
mosh pit. But they are, and their live
shows just kill me. Their Airwaves set
at Harpa music hall was so clean that I
felt compelled to sit down and appreci-
ate its instrumental beauty. At a living
room concert a couple of weeks prior,
they drew such a big crowd that the
floor started creaking, as if ready to col-
lapse. At a Gaukurinn outing, I observed
a fan faceplant, knocking himself out in
the mosh pit, only to wake up a minute
later and jump right back into the fray.
And I understood. It’s why I use every
opportunity I get to see those guys play.
Observing Muck relaxing and drink-
ing beers in the park proves a sharp con-
trast to the explosive energy the group
delivers in concert. In a way, however,
the core experience was much the same.
On stage, synchronicity is one of Muck’s
defining traits, each instrument mesh-
ing perfectly together in beautiful and
deliberate discord—sans instruments,
the four members still mesh perfectly. I
went on to further confirm this through
several encounters that fall and the fol-
lowing winter: together, the four form
a well-oiled, highly sophisticated ma-
chine far greater than the sum of its
parts.
Small wonder, then, that Muck is see-
ing a bit of success. “The year of Muck,”
they’re calling it. Note, however, that
none of it happened overnight. Muck is
the result of hard work, extensive tour-
ing, a genuine love for music, and a very
strong bond of friendship.
Arts and crafts
Lead guitarist Indriði Arnar Ingólfsson
says that when the band got together
at the end of 2007, they did so with the
intent of becoming the heaviest band in
Iceland. The members all knew one an-
other from going to shows and tagging
buildings, and started off playing sludgy
drone hymns before making the jump
into hardcore punk.
Drummer Ási Þórðarson says the
punk scene they came out of was quite
different in those days: “It was a bunch
of hormonal teenagers that wanted to
change the world, but they mostly just
went to parties in Breiðholt and made
out.” Given how the extreme music
scene was largely dominated by rock
and metal acts, there were relatively few
punk bands around. Muck thus often
shared a stage with some very different
acts, such as thrashers Severed Crotch
and progressive doom merchants Mo-
mentum.
When Muck released their debut
LP ‘Slaves’ in 2012, they were showered
with positive feedback. One notable
exception to the chorus of praise was
DIY punk stalwart, musician and self-
styled music historian Dr. Gunni. “He
said we were just pretentious art school
students,” Ási notes, with singer/guitar-
ist Karl Torsten Ställborn chiming in
that that may have had some truth to
it—at the time they had started carving
a niche for themselves by connecting
more to the art scene and sharing the
stage more often with indie acts like
Mammút. Indeed, Karl and Indriði were
both enrolled in the Iceland Academy
of the Arts, which Indriði says shaped
their band to a large extent. “When
you’re playing a guitar, and you’re paint-
ing, the two art disciplines have a way of
influencing one another.”
Limitations of labels
and the scene
Throughout my many conversations
with the band, the four members in-
terchangeably describe their music as
punk, hardcore, rock or “heavy.” When
confronted with this inconsistency, they
take a moment to think before answer-
ing that they’re wary of participating in
the elitist culture that punk and hard-
core are often associated with. “There’s
a lot of holier than thou attitude in punk,
where you have to dress and act in a cer-
tain way, and conform to a certain politi-
cal point of view,” Ási says, “but I want
no part in that. Punk, to me, is about
the attitude you bring to creating and
promoting your music, and about invok-
ing a very primal and destructive urge
in the listener. I don’t want to push our
political views on our audience, in fact if
anything, we are decidedly apolitical—
I want our performances to be a safe
space where things like how dumb our
prime minister is don’t matter.”
Karl takes a bite out of his hot dog and laughs at Indriði for bringing vegetables to a
barbeque. Loftur frets over there not being enough sauces and procures a beer from
somewhere, while Ási and I work out the correct exchange rate between my hot dogs
and his hamburgers. It’s a relaxed autumn afternoon in Hljómskálagarður park, and I’m
sitting with the four members of Muck, a hardcore punk band I have ardently followed
for the past two years. At the time they had a killer new album on the way and a shiny
new record deal with international heavy metal label Prosthetic Records to their name,
which finally gave me an excuse to sit them down for a proper interview.
HER E’S TO YOUR JOYOUS FUTUR E
M U C K I S U N R E L E N T I N G A N D U N C O M P R O M I S I N G
Words by Gabríel Benjamin Photos by Hörður Sveinsson
15
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 6 — 2015