Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.11.2015, Side 22
By RX Beckett
Þórir Georg is the first to admit that he’s
not much for interviews or self-promo-
tion of any kind. Although he’s enjoyed
a diverse, overly active career as a
musician over the past decade-plus,
driven by a strong work ethic that’s
resulted in in a substantial back-cata-
logue that spans various monikers and
genres, Þórir Georg is a name known by
few other than some really nerdy Ice-
landic music critics and fans. I know he
would like to keep it that way, letting his
self-named slop-rock trio and his goth
rock project Kvöl stay on the down-
low. However, when I arrived at Harpa
this past Airwaves, planning to hang out
before Ariel Pink’s set, I stumbled upon
Þórir and his wife and bandmate, Júlía
Aradóttir, sitting by the bar, I decided to
press through and get him on the record.
You have a good moustache going
on right now. Did you get a haircut
for the festival?
I just shaved my head and my beard
yesterday. I do this fairly regularly. I’m
surprised you haven’t seen it before. It’s
very common, it’s like, every other time
that I shave.
Júlía: And I’m always like, are you gon-
na leave that moustache?
How quickly does your facial hair
grow? Like, how long would it take
you to grow out that moustache?
Fairly quickly. I dunno, like, two weeks.
That’s impressive. And how much
does your facial hair affect your
performance?
That’s a difficult question.
So how is Airwaves going for you?
Same as always. This is my eleventh
year and I always go into it thinking it
will be fun, and I never have as much
fun as I think I’m going to have. But that
just has more to do with me getting
tired very easily from everything.
Is that because everyone around
you is getting shitfaced and you’re
just like, ugh?
Hmm, that’s probably part of it*. There’s
just too much going on.
Have you seen anything good,
though, or have you just given up?
Yes [laughs]. No! I saw a show today at
Dillon, and that was all very good. All
the bands that played there were great.
Who was playing again? Just re-
mind me?
I think it was HAM and ghostigital and
The Sugarcubes.**
Those are good bands! Solid
groups.
Of course, I like all the bands that were
playing but I see them pretty much ev-
ery time they play. I saw Misþyrming on
Wednesday at Gaukurinn. I liked that a lot.
At Airwaves, do you spend more
time seeing your friends bands or—
Yes, definitely. I realised that the pat-
tern I’ve fallen into is: I’ll usually see one
or two foreign acts, and then I’ll just
see the same bands I’ll see every year.
I probably see more bands now than I
used to. There are a bunch of bands go-
ing on right now that sort of fit into my
taste in music, more usual.
In terms of playing has the experi-
ence changed? Does any memory
stand out?
It’s always nice. I don’t have a very
good memory for details though. My
shows have always gone very smoothly.
I remember the couple of times that
Gavin Portland*** played. Those were
really good memories. We played two
or three times, and it was always nice.
Now I’m trying to remember bands that
I’ve seen, but it’s not going very well.
[Turns to Júlía] What have I seen that I
really liked?
Júlía: You saw The Knife last year.
Yeah, The Knife. That was really good.
Oh, and Fucked Up were really good
when they played. But I’d seen them
a couple of times before. Contrary to
what everyone else seems to think,
I really loved the Yo La Tengo show a
couple of years ago. Everyone I meet is
like, nah I didn’t like it that much, but
I thought it was really good. I got into
a fairly heated argument with a couple
of mutual friends of ours over whether
The Pixies or Yo La Tengo were a bet-
ter band.
You’re not gonna tell me who, are you?
We don’t have very many mutual friends
that would have an opinion on this! One
of them definitely plays drums in a
couple of bands that we are in, and the
other guy has definitely been a mem-
ber of one of those bands before, but
they’re not anymore [laughter]. They
were really offended when I said that
The Pixies only had a couple of good
songs. I may have been exaggerating to
benefit my argument, but still. But I still
maintain that Yo La Tengo are probably
a better band than The Pixies. In my
opinion, of course.
But yeah... Börn are one the bands
I love to see, they’ve played the last
couple of years. But of course, I pretty
much see every single show they play
in Iceland, so...
You stage a lot of them, in fact.
Yes. If I am to be completely honest,
Börn might be my favourite Icelandic
band in the history of Icelandic music.
Whoa! Elaborate.
They just play exactly the kind of music
I love. There haven’t really been a lot of
real punk bands in Iceland. Even dur-
ing the punk period, there weren’t re-
ally any punk rock bands. There were a
couple of punk bands that I don’t listen
to that much, because they were more
on the bar rock kind of side.
And it seems like anything that
actually sounded like straight-up
punk was actually a lot of macho
bullshit.
Yeah, exactly. There was the post-punk
stuff, which I obviously love, like the
weirder darker stuff. [Þeyr, Kukl].
Which would venture into some
really strange, experimental terri-
tory...
Yes, which is cool. I like that. I much
prefer that to that manly Bubbi Morth-
ens punk rock kind of thing. So yeah, so
I like Börn a lot. Can this interview just
be about how much I like Börn?
Yeah! Fuck yes.
Even the band they had before that,
Tentacles of Doom, that was an incred-
ible rock band. That was Alexandra,
Júlíana and Fannar, with a guy named
Siggi on the guitar. I think he’s a Park
Ranger now. They were really good as
well. My opinion is probably affected by
my best friend being in that band. Still,
I think that even if I didn’t know them
they, would be my favourite band.
I feel like there’s always a bit of a
natural overlap between who one
hangs out with and what kind of
music one likes.
I’ve had friends in a bunch of bands that
I didn’t like.
Of course, who doesn’t? But you
wouldn’t necessarily organise or
play shows together…
No no, but I just mean through the
years as well. So I don’t think it’s just
because they’re friends of mine that I
like them. In fact, most of that band are
assholes [pauses. Breaks. Laughs]. No,
they’re not. None of them are assholes.
Þórir Georg:
It’s Always
The Quiet Ones
“There haven’t really been a lot
of real punk bands in Iceland.
Even during the punk period,
there weren’t really any punk rock
bands. There were a couple of
punk bands that I don’t listen to
that much, because they were
more on the bar rock kind of side.”
Tender Trends, Fickle
Fashion, Party Politics
By Gabríel Benjamin
Information about Icelandic politics
is anything but accessible to outsiders
(hell, most of us natives don’t know
jack shit about them, either). Luckily,
we found a political pundit and histo-
rian type who was all into explaining
it to us. Straight outta Iceland’s left-
est, greenest pastures, meet Stefán
Pálsson! Read on to learn more about
Iceland’s political roots, how small
parties get on in Iceland, and the reli-
ability of mid-term polls.
How would you describe Iceland’s
recent political history?
Speaking in broad strokes—100+ years
ago, Icelandic politics focused on the
nation’s struggle for independence
from Danish rule. While most agreed
on that objective, they disagreed on
how far they were willing to go to
make it happen, which necessitated
the creation of separate parties. Poli-
tics with some semblance of a left/
right axis—where parties seek their
voter base from different classes and
regions—commenced around the time
of the First World War, laying the
foundation for Iceland’s modern poli-
tics.
Unlike what happened in the other
Nordic countries, where the process
of urbanisation began far earlier, se-
curing social democratic parties a
stronger position, Iceland has been
under the rule of the right-wing In-
dependence Party (Sjálfstæðisflok-
kurinn) and the centre-right Progres-
sive Party (Framsókn) for much longer
than the two major left-wing parties
[the People’s Alliance (Alþýðubanda-
lagið), which eventually morphed into
the Left-Green Movement (Vinstri-
Grænir), and the Social Democratic
Party (Alþýðuflokkurinn), which
eventually became the Social Demo-
cratic Alliance (Samfylkingin)].
How have these four parties
changed over the last century?
Well, the Progressive Party, for ex-
ample, used to be associated with the
cooperative movement—people used
to joke was it was merely their politi-
cal arm, which is no longer the case.
Then, the Progressive leaders primar-
ily spoke for the countryside. Iceland’s
demography has undergone major
changes since, and the current divide
makes it impossible to run on a plat-
form that appeals only to a rural base.
Similarly, the left-wing parties used
to be in bed with the unions, with
Alþýðuflokkurinn and ASÍ (“the Ice-
landic Confederation of Labour”) ba-
sically acting as two sides of the same
coin. That, too, has changed.
Generally speaking, the parties have
grown much more diverse. Alþingi
used to be almost entirely made up of
male lawyers, doctors, or public of-
ficials. Now, it comprises much more
of a cross-section of society, with MPs
of various backgrounds and both gen-
ders.
Another big change came through the
increased importance of primaries
from 1970 and onwards, where indi-
viduals could rise through the politi-
cal ranks and secure a seat in Parlia-
ment simply by merit of being famous,
personable, or popular—instead of
having to remain loyal to the party for
extended periods of time.
It’s worth mentioning that while the
aforementioned parties—which have
remained a constant in Icelandic poli-
tics since the advent of modern poli-
tics—we have often had a fifth, or even
sixth party in Parliament since 1983.
Grouping the “Big Four” together as
“the establishment” has primarily
been a form of rhetoric employed by
supporters of smaller parties, a way
to define their identities and ideas
in contrast to them. Many of those
smaller parties have been lead by for-
mer members of one of the four, folks
who defected after getting upset, for
instance, or losing an election.
These smaller parties are often very
fluid, able to change their policies with
very short notice, and not needing to
place themselves on the traditional
left-right spectrum. For example, the
Liberal Party changed a lot over the
time it was active; it went from being
centred on fishing quota system re-
forms, to basically flirting with popu-
list racism.
These new parties seem to pop up
every few years, maybe surviving
one or two terms before disappear-
ing. The Pirates, however, seem
to be doing exceptionally well in
polls…
I’d be careful not to read too much
into poll movements in the middle of
a term—things that quickly become
fashionable also quickly fall out of
fashion, and if their numbers dip, the
same media that covered their rise to
popularity with fervour will be more
than happy to report on their demise.
They’ve managed to sustain high pop-
ularity for half a year, which in itself is
remarkable—however, it’s not unprec-
edented. The Left Greens, for example,
ranked very high in the polls for most
of the term following their first elec-
tion in 1999, and were projected to get
more MPs than the Social Democrats.
Despite this, they lost a seat in the fol-
lowing 2003 elections.
Historian Stefán
Pálsson tells us
all about Iceland’s
political history
and the role of
small parties
*Þórir is straight-edge and proud.
**Þórir and Júlía’s band Kvöl and my band
Antimony both played said off-venue show
at Dillon, “Dark Waves Night.” His answer is
what we call a “lie”.
***One of his former hardcore bands. He’s
had a few.
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