Reykjavík Grapevine - 27.09.2019, Blaðsíða 8

So you want to be a sailor, eh, matey?
Well, not so fast. There are a few
ground rules we need to cover before
you push off into the crushing Atlantic.
No pointing
First, check if your shiny new sailor
clothes were sewn on a Sunday. Because
if they were, buddy, you are screwed. It
means that you will no doubt die at sea.
Now, before you head out, don’t you
dare throw a rock in your boat lest you
want it to sink later on. And don’t be
childish and point at a ship, as that will
have the same repercussions. Yeah,
apparently that’s a real thing.
Once you’re chugging out to sea, no
matter your mood don’t even think
of whistling. You are practically daring
the wind to smite you.
Sleep tight
Well you’ve survived up until now, and
even caught some delicious cod, but
you also got some tiny weird fish. You’ll
just toss your unintended catch back
to the sea, right? Jesus, what are you,
a madman!? Do not throw fish over-
board—for then you are feeding none
other than the devil himself. And that
means you’re gonna die out there.
Now then, it was a productive day,
and you deserve a good night’s sleep.
But keep your wits about you because
sleep brings about the most important
part of the job: dreams.
If you dream of blood, a broken
engine, or some other calamity, wake
the hell up and sail straight home. But
if you dream of nets overflowing with
fish, wake up and start dragging those
suckers on board. The same goes with
some women; dream of your old lady,
and you're in luck.
So remember: The real luck on
the ocean is not fishing well, but to
return safely. Still interested in earn-
ing your sea legs?
The Sailor’s Guide
To Superstitions
Arr! Shiver me timbers!
8 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 17— 2019
LÓABORATORIUM
Listen, watch & hear
more tracks:
gpv.is/play
RYBA - Stalker
This one is dark. The
beat is intrusive, like
when your heart is
pounding and you
can’t calm it down.
RYBA has put the
melancholy and
dread of walking the
streets of Reykjavík
in autumn into a
cleverly cra!ed
song. Be prepared to
feel gloomy. LM
Birgir Hákon -
Starm!ri
How do you pretend
to be a gangsta
rapper in the safest
country in the world?
Well, Birgir Hákon
adopts the gangsta
vibes straight
from American
hip hop (cultural
appropriation
anyone?). He raps
about the money
that he doesn't have
and the handgun
that he definitely
doesn't have. But is it
fun? Sure. As a fiction,
it works. Is the song
well composed?
Not really. But the
attitude definitely
is. VG
Hrím - Tryst
This chill track has
dark undertones.
The heavy beat
pounds through
the entire song
while a light melody
in a minor key
plays underneath.
“Save me from
this. Save me from
myself,” sings Ösp
Eldjárn. Dark lyrics
undercutting nice
music. SPO
Mr. Silla - Butter on it
Mr. Silla is perhaps
the best-kept secret
in Icelandic music.
She’s an incredibly
talented singer, but
also has a smooth
and cool vibe about
her music. Her new
song, “Butter on it,” is
a fantastic sombre
trip-hop-ish track
with a crying electric
guitar and some
deep backup vocals
care of Páll Ivan frá
Ei"um. What’s not to
like? VG
Án & Jóhanna Elísa -
Whoever/However
Án (Elvar Smári) is the
epitome of Iceland’s
bright future in
electronic music,
IMO. In his new song,
he gets an assist
from Jóhanna Elísa
(from the band
Ateria) to sing the
melody. The song
is solidly cra!ed
and the melody is
beautiful. It’s the
perfect song for
heartbroken people
and pretentious
editors-in-chief in a
mid-life crisis. VG
Marína Ósk -
Ég sit hér í grasinu
If you’re learning
Icelandic, you should
check out the video
to this song. It’s a
slow melody and easy
to follow because
Marína shows you
bits of paper with the
lyrics on them. This is
perhaps as far from
parental advisory
explicit content as it
gets. LM
GRAPEVINE
PLAYLIST
„A" tefla vi" páfann“
JUST SAYINGS
This is probably the first idiom that
many Icelandic kids learn. It literally
means “playing chess
with the pope.” But the
meaning is far from
literal. So when you’re
playing chess with the
pope, well, good luck,
because that means
you’re taking a well-
earned dump. The
origin is from the middle
of the 18th century and
was probably meant
to disrespect the pope
himself. But no one's
really sure about why
this became a thing.
Probably because Icelanders secretly
hate Catholics (we’re Lutherans), and
we thought it was hilarious. Poop (and
Pope) jokes always are. VG
ICELANDIC
SUPERSTITIONS
Words:
Valur Grettisson
Photo:
Art Bicnick
First
Avast ye skurvy dogs: no throwing stones on board!