Reykjavík Grapevine - ágú. 2020, Blaðsíða 12
12 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 06— 2020
None of this was supposed to happen.
GusGus was just supposed to be a short
film, not a band. And even when it
became a band, and remained a band,
it—in some ways—still felt like more
than a band. Cycling through catastro-
phes, last-minute collapses, and terri-
ble drama, the act—one of Iceland’s
most beloved—has been down for
the count more than once. But inter-
twined with that has been a string of
high-water mark moments, each more
improbable than the last.
When they burst onto the scene in
1995, people immediately took notice
of GusGus. Sure, their music was strik-
ingly original, but they also possessed
an attitude unparalleled within the
Icelandic scene. They refused to be
called a band, instead opting for the
term “fjöllistahópur,” which could
be translated as a multi-discipline
art collective or circus. To many, this
stance felt pretentious, but somehow,
the group converted naysayers. It was
an apt description.
Now, twenty five years later, the
group is revving up again with a new
release set to rival the album that many
consider their landmark achievement,
‘Arabian Horse,’ as well as a crowd-
funded photo book celebrating the
entirety of their peculiar history. To
mark their quarter-century birthday,
the current lineup of the band—Daníel
Ágúst Haraldsson and Birgir (“Biggi”)
!órarinsson—sat down to give their
version of the story of GusGus, the one
you haven’t heard before in interviews,
album by album. No former members
were interviewed: This is how 2020
GusGus remember it, re-arranged,
remixed, and with additional material
from the author, a GusGus fan since
the early days.
Setting the scene
To get to the GusGus studio, I walk past
a giant trampoline on a decrepit patio
and through an intricately designed
garden with a stately two-story tree-
house built by Birgir, better known
as Biggi Veira, for his children. I then
enter a synth-laden paradise, a grown-
up funland—it’s the studio of Biggi
Veira, GusGus producer since the
beginning.
This story starts with an idea.
Director duo Árni & Kinski wanted to
make a short film entitled ‘Nautn’. (It’s
currently on YouTube, if you want to
check it out.) In their crew were cine-
matographer Stephan Stephensen and
producer Baldur Stefánsson. The group
reached out to a bunch of actors—all
also musicians—among them singer
Daníel Ágúst.
Everyone knew Daníel. His guitar-
rock based band N"dönsk had been
huge since the start of the 90s and
before that he was a fresh-faced Euro-
vision contestant. But ennui was
creeping in. Disillusioned with the
constraints of the rock band struc-
ture, he left N"dönsk and subsequently
produced the second Bubbleflies
album, where he got a taste for elec-
tronic elements in music. Then he got
the call.
0. Soundtrack
to ‘Nautn’
So GusGus started out as a soundtrack
to a short film. Daníel Ágúst sought a
collaborator who shared his fascina-
tion with the electronic. A few produc-
ers were considered before the team
settled on reaching out to T-World,
Biggi's band.
Daníel and Biggi can't agree on how
this happened, and won’t let this arti-
cle disclose any names.
For long-time fans, it's interesting
to consider how GusGus might have
turned out with other producers at the
helm. Biggi—whose sound is so iconic
that every musician in Iceland has, at
some point, tried and failed to emulate
it—might never have joined.
Biggi founded T-World in the 80s,
with a guy called Beggi. They were
influenced by Depeche Mode, Marc
Almond and the like. When Beggi left
in the early 90s, Biggi brought Maggi
Legó on board, and together they
started making techno.
Maggi Legó’s presence added
another level of skill to the team. Part
of the first wave of acid house DJs,
which pushed DJ culture away from its
cheesy 80s roots, Legó has always had
an air of legend around him.
T-World had already had one release,
‘An-them’, on Underwater, Darren
Emerson of Underworld’s label. But,
as Biggi describes, the label staff had
a cocaine problem, and when Maggi
asked for an allowance to fly back to
Iceland, the label boss—presumably
in an altered state—fired them on the
spot. Their track “Purple,” a hit in the
making, was shelved.
I. ‘Gus Gus’
(The Album)
Back to the main story. While the
production of the short film ‘Nautn’
was postponed, the trio decided to rent
a room in an old warehouse, which
they shared with a gang of bikers, and
make some music.
Daníel painted the space blue. He
and Maggi hunted for samples to loop
and the whole cast of the film dropped
by to collaborate on a track or two.
It was all quick and casual. Emili-
ana Torrini covered Slowblow’s “Is
Jesus Your Pal?” over a bass drum
beat. Magnús Jónsson brought in soul
and disco influences. Ragnhei#ur Axel
orchestrated a rowdy, shouty rave tune.
Hei#rún Anna came in, but unfortu-
nately the track didn’t work out. She’d
go on to write for the Spice Girls among
other things. Others added their own
spin on songs.
The soundtrack became an album,
simply called ‘Gus Gus,’ released late in
1995. They did a few shows around the
country. The filmmakers made some
visuals and they VJ-ed on stage, mixing
together footage shot by Stephan on
analog video tape. After that, the proj-
ect just petered out. It was finished
and a modest success, though no one
in the group yet identified GusGus as
a proper band, rather just a one-time
project.
Then they got a fax from 4AD.
II. Polydistortion
4AD was a one of the most respected
indie labels in the world, best known
at the time for launching the Pixies
and Cocteau Twins. After the success
of Björk and the Sugarcubes, the label
had been keeping an eye on Iceland and
wanted to release the ‘Gus Gus’ album
worldwide. So a decision had to be
made: Was GusGus now a band? And if
so, who would join this new band?
Some joined, others did not, and the
band eventually signed as a nine piece,
featuring Stephan Stephansen, Biggi,
Daníel, Maggi Legó, Magnús Jónsson,
Hafdís Huld !rastardóttir, Sigur#ur
Kjartansson, Stefán Árni !orgeirsson,
and Baldur Stefánsson. Interestingly
enough, despite having worked in the
collective for over a year, it was only
now that Stephan Stephansen and
Biggi Veira met in person.
The group released ‘Polydistortion’
on 4AD in 1997. Most of the album’s
material originated from ‘Gus Gus’
although there were some new tracks.
These additions were mostly due to
changes regarding the use of sampling.
While the 80s and early 90s had been
a free-for-all, by ‘97 high profile court
cases had bankrupted some of the early
sampling pioneers. As a result GusGus
removed all but two samples, one of
which—the cowbell loop that drives
“Believe”—ended up costing the band
70% of the proceeds from the track.
They made short films as videos to
each track and hype built around the
collective. Then they toured the world.
III. This Is Normal
Touring—with nine members and a
gigantic video projector—was hugely
expensive. That said, the venues were
packed and the media exposure was
enormous. Apparently, the world
realised, there was more to Iceland
than Björk and the Sugarcubes.
Back in Iceland, the group embarked
on a new record. ‘Gus Gus’ and ‘Polydis-
tortion’ had happened in such a casual
manner, but while recording this new,
international album entitled ‘This
Is Normal’, the strain of being a band
became obvious. Members became
more ambitious and tried to push the
project in directions that reflected
their own personal tastes and image.
And so, in the record’s production
stage things began to unravel. Hafdís
Huld was unhappy with the material
she got. Biggi and Magnús Jónsson
struggled to work together. Maggi Legó
didn’t want to tour again. “We became
a dysfunctional pop band,” Daníel
admits. Biggi, meanwhile, didn’t even
believe that GusGus would survive the
album—too much politics.
The band subsequently split into
camps, separated in two studios. One
was Biggi’s, who had been joined by
Stephan Stephensen, the other was
Maggi Lego's studio, he was joined
by !órir Baldurs—best known for
his work on Donna Summer’s “I Feel
Love”—who was working with Legó.
The Impossible Band:
The unlikely story of how GusGus, against all
odds, formed, and the outlandish tale of how,
against all odds, they just continued to happen.
Words: Sveinbjörn Pálsson & Hannah Jane Cohen
Photos: From forthcoming book
Baldur
Emiliana
Biggi Veira
Hafdís Huld
Daniel Ágúst
Siggi Kinskí
Högni