Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.09.2015, Side 38

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I arrived midway through Retro Stefson.
This group’s enthusiasm is contagious—
you can’t help but smile. The crowd was
not its loudest or largest, but everyone
seemed happy and some people definitely
got cray.
GP, that Glacier Mafia Don, was next
and, as always, on point. Say what you
will about his wigger-ness, but he fuck-
ing owned it, giving one of the best per-
formances I’ve seen from him. I do have
one question though: does he take off his
sunglasses? Ever? What’s under there?
(Theories: hannah@grapevine.is)
Pell rocked it. He needs to 86 some
keyboard solos, but the majority of the
11-16-year-old audience got fucking turnt
up during his set. This raucous recep-
tion clearly surprised the NOLA boy. He
kept doing the, “When I say X, you say
Y”-game and then seemed genuinely
shocked at the audiences’ aggressive re-
sponse—like physically “is-this-a-prank?”
disarmed. He even once said, “Guys, at
some concerts, no one responds…”
Ultimately, everyone was there to see
Rae Sremmurd. Unfortunately, it quickly
became apparent that their vocals were
mainly coming from a playback that suf-
fered from some shit sound mixing. It
made their lack-of-actual-rapping some-
what unbearable, with the boys outright
calling out the sound guy for fucking up
multiple times.
Still, the crowd collectively went crazy,
the group of ~15-year-old girls I stood next
to getting up to some 4am Paloma base-
ment-level dancing and screaming.
There was so much energy in the air.
And yet, these turnt up teenagers just
made me feel… old [rare Editor’s Note:
Hannah is like 21 or something]. I kept
having flashbacks to high school and the
various underage parties it brought. I
mean, Laugardalshöll wasn’t even serv-
ing alcohol at the main bar! Instead, there
was an “Adult” bar, hidden from youngins’
view. Jesus Christ, there were parents
hanging out there. At 9pm, as the throb-
bing crowd of teenagers kept descending
deeper into crazy party abandon, jaded
old me felt too sober to connect or reach
their level.
But there was some magic: the first
Northern Lights of the season appeared
at the end of the show. Faint, un-photog-
raphable, but still beautiful, the greenish
hue outlined an after-show mob waiting
to meet Sremmurd and Pálmi.
I thought about joining them, if only
to get a selfie, but I held back. You know,
cups with the ice and we do this every
night—all that shit. I’ll be back.
At Laugardalshöll, Kings of Leon played
a variety of songs, but, sadly, only a hand-
ful of tracks from their 2003 debut and
its 2004 follow-up, ‘Aha Shake Heart-
break’ (their best work by far). Perform-
ing in front of a huge L.E.D. screen that
showed everything from psychedelic
splashing paint to retro beach footage,
the band started the night with “Super-
soaker” from their most recent album.
They followed up with “Taper Jean Girl”
from ‘Aha Shake Heartbreak’ and “Fans”
from 2007’s ‘Because of the Times’. The
show’s highlight was easily their rendi-
tion of “The Bucket” from ‘Aha’, but after
that there was nothing that really im-
pressed me.
The night came to an end with the
band playing its biggest hits, with five
of the last six songs coming from 2008’s
U2-alike ‘Only By The Night’. The big-
gest crowd reaction came when they
launched into one of the last decade’s
worst songs, “Use Somebody,” which
signalled the end of the main set. As the
crowed started cheering for more, the
band sent their roadies up on stage to
tune their instruments in what proved a
weird, and kind of lame spectacle. The
band then predictably wrapped up their
three-song encore with “Sex on Fire,”
giving the people what they came for.
Kings of Leon took a very workman-
like arena rock approach to their ninety-
minute set, giving a show that ultimately
proved safe, mediocre and by the num-
bers. Indeed, a quick bout of post-show
research revealed that the setlist had
been nearly identical to the one they
have been performing for the last couple
of years.
Oh, what fun it seems, to be a king.
MUSIC
THREE OF SUMMER'S HOTTEST SHOWS
A fortnight ago, California rappers Rae Sremmurd arrived in cloudy Reykjavík armed with
two mics to tear down Laugardalshöll. After the DJ Snoopadelic debacle at that same venue,
I didn’t dare expect much, but was still excited to see the boys, who were accompanied by
Retro Stefson, Gísli Pálmi ( <3 ), and New Orleans rapper Pell.
Kings of Leon and I go way back. I first saw the band play in Sweden in July of 2003, only a
week before their first LP, ‘Youth & Young Manhood’, hit the shelves. It was at a small festival
in Malmö and they were young and fired up, giving a really enjoyable performance. After
the show, a couple of friends and I ran into the band and had a brief chat—they even gave me
a copy of the ‘Holy Roller Novocaine’ EP that they’d released earlier that year. I went on to
like their first album, and positively love the second one—however, after their fourth release,
‘Only By The Night’ (when they went into full-on U2 mode, making a successful run for the
big leagues), I stopped listening to them altogether. Not my bag.
Photo Hörður Sveinsson
Photo Anna Domnick
Words Hannah Jane Cohen
Words Óli Dóri
6
Rae Sremmurd And
The No Flex Zone
I used to love them.