Reykjavík Grapevine - júl. 2021, Blaðsíða 9

9 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 07— 2021
and then we were going to go into record-
ing mode, play the summer shows we had
[booked], but not really push ourselves into
the spotlight; not doing interviews or the
regular PR stuff. But then this pandemic
happened, then everything kind of [went]
bust. I felt like some opportunities were
going away that were never going to come
back, because that's just the way it is in
music. You're [the] flavour of the month
and then a year later you're not so relevant
anymore.”
The lockdown prompted Fannar to look
inwards and to devote himself full-time to
his art.
"The quarantine just made me crazy,”
he says. “I've been living inside a 10-track
album for almost a year now. I'm focused,
but then I'm also obsessed. I've been
enjoying myself a lot. I took a decision
at the beginning of this year not to work
on anything but my music, which didn't
make any sense in terms of finance, but I
felt that I'm never going to get this oppor-
tunity again. I just felt the momentum of
having something precious like this album,
and not being able to do my best if I were
working nine-to-five and then producing
the album or a video [in the evening]. I've
done that before, with the first album and
it just drains you. I've been doing that for
half a year, I released the album and now I'm
back at my old job with the kids, who I love
working with. My tightest and best audi-
ence, my top fans. I am a star in Álftanes."
Even so, quarantine has made Fannar
a bit anxious, as for him, music is very
much about establishing a connection with
others.
"We're having a free show this Friday,”
he says. “It doesn't make any sense for me
to have a free show; I need money. But I
need to feel that connection again, I need
to know: who's listening? Is this relevant?
I have no connection with my audience
anymore. I feel like some digital item right
now. So now I'm anxious about who's going
to come to our shows. Do people even go to
shows anymore? Are shows relevant?"
Turn and Face the
Strange
One of the bigger challenges about making
‘Lög síns tíma’ was making the decision to
go it alone; a decision that, although hard to
make, did not damage his friendship with
Jökull.
"I told Jökull that I was going to be more
of a frontman of the project, because we
were in different places in life,” he says.
“He's seven years younger than me and
needed to finish some other stuff, and I
kind of felt like our friendship was [taking]
second place, but I really wanted our friend-
ship to rule our relationship. The shift from
being a role model to being a co-worker in
a band with a person, it's two different
things. I felt like there was becoming some
intensity between us and I really didn't like
it. So I really wanted to clear the room of
that intensity. He took it like a champ. He
totally understood what I was talking about.
Our friendship has survived. We've known
each other for such a long time. Everything
will be OK."
With that, he became hyper-focused on
making the project work.
"I set some expectations for myself
for [‘Lög síns tíma’],” he says. ”That's the
biggest factor in the whole process—expec-
tations to create something beautiful. I
knew how the album was going to begin and
how it was going to end. I kind of knew the
track list, but didn't have all the lyrics ready.
I've never been used to working under pres-
sure with writing lyrics. So I really became
obsessed with my own lyrics; I had so many
ideas for them."
Bombing at Stand-
up and ADHD
For a man as soft-spoken as Fannar,
performing didn’t exactly come naturally,
but he received an education on it through
an unusual source: stand-up comedy.
Though technically a failure, the experience
did impart valuable lessons.
"I did stand-up back in 2012 and 2013,” he
recalls. “The first set went super good, and
I became obsessed with jokes and what's
funny. Everything felt funny, it became a
huge issue for me to know what's a bit and
what's not. There was really no stand-up
environment in Iceland at the time. Me
and my friends hosted a comedy show at
[the now defunct] Faktor! in 2012, which
went really well. Then we didn't do a show
for a year, did another in 2013, at Stúdenta-
gar"urinn—a full house—and I bombed so
hard. Like it was the worst feeling ever.
“It probably took me like five years to get
over that night. It was the ultimate failure. I
blacked out on stage, there were no laughs,
I felt like getting off the stage as soon as
possible. So [with] going into music and
performing music, I was like 'OK I think
I've experienced the worst that can really
happen as a showperson.'
“So I'm really proud of that experience.
It's helped me prepare myself better before
shows. But I'm still learning, because my
biggest fear is forgetting the lyrics. I'm not
good with lyrics, even my own lyrics. I have
ADHD; I can just drift away in some cases,
even while playing and singing."
Despite the challenges that ADHD may
pose, Fannar has come to see it as a gift.
"The great thing about ADHD is it's a
strength in most situations in life for me,”
he says. “When I like doing something,
I really, really like doing something. I'm
hyper-focused, almost obsessed. I only got
the diagnosis last September and I decided
that I didn't want to start medication until
I finished the album. But I was so bad with
sleep over the winter that I started taking
Concerta. I took it for like a month but I had
so many headaches, so I quit it, and now
I'm not really sure what my stance is in this
medication realm. I just try to be active;
exercise, play golf, to breathe."
An Album in Limbo
The first track on ‘Lög síns tíma,’ “2021”,
is not an easy listen. It’s a grand opener,
a perfect jumping off point for the rest of
the album, but it contains samples of news
broadcasts over the past year that reflect
the anxious, uncertain time that 2020 was.
"I wanted to set the scene for today's
news,” he says. “We've never been so
attached to the news as we are today. Our
eyes [are] stuck to the news and we know
everything that's happening in like five
minutes. We got the thumbs up from RÚV
to use the samples."
When told that listening to the song
nearly induced a panic attack in this
reporter, he laughs and seems pleased with
this almost certainly intended effect.
"This album has been a huge learning
curve,” he admits. “I was really happy with
the recordings. But with the release, it's
not been as smooth, because I just had a
really big fight with the producer of the
album. It's not that the music wasn't good,
but in my gut it felt like a failure, because
our connection had gone away and it had to
do with money, songwriting credits and all
that kind of stuff. So all of the sudden we
were just fighting over things. That really
took so much energy out of the process. But
we're working on getting our relationship
back on track and that means more to me
than the music being successful."
However, the album itself is in a state of
legal limbo. Fannar is trying to be released
from his contract with his label, Record
Records, but the label is throwing the book
at him. They have demanded he buy his way
out of the contract for 2 million ISK and
have taken the album down from Spotify.
It’s a fight that hits Fannar hard, but he is
determined to see his way to the end.
Haraldur Leví Gunnarsson, the head of
Record Records, recently told Vísir that
while Hipsumhaps does own the rights to
the recordings and the music, it’s the label
that has the rights on the album itself, and
is therefore fully within its rights to pull the
album. While Fannar’s lawyer, Jón Gunnar
Ásbjörnsson, has argued that Fannar has
every right to end his contract with Record
Records and still owns the full rights to his
music, the matter is not yet settled and has
taken an emotional toll on Fannar.
"It's a really sad situation in the history
of Icelandic music,” Fannar says. “I feel like
the system is once again fucking me up. I
put one stroke of a pen on a contract and
got nothing back. Right now, after getting
through COVID and finally finding myself
again in life, putting everything I've got
into this year—I'm producing and financ-
ing all this by myself—I'm trying to walk
away from the table peacefully, because I
feel like I didn't get good enough service.
There was poor communication and no
money changed hands. I feel like I don't
even want to do music or hold concerts.
That's just how it is. But it's a question of
attitude and trying to find a silver lining
in all this. I have so many mixed feelings
about this right now that it's hard to make
a definitive statement about all this."
The Connection
Fannar has his eyes firmly set on the future,
as he looks towards what it will bring
Hipsumhaps and him personally.
"I feel like there's so much left for this
album,” he says. “Basically, every live perfor-
mance for this and the last album. I feel like
everything is left to be done, because this is
live music. That's the way I see it. I just want
to bring people together."
As such, he’s taking his project on the
road, eager to reconnect with the masses.
"We're going to tour around Iceland.
Every weekend we're going to have two
shows. I decided before this album that I
was going to do a double-digit tracklist,
so I made ten tracks. I wanted to release
three music videos; I've produced five. And
I want to play a live show at Harpa … now
we have a show at Harpa on November 12th.
That's what this album is about for me—
bringing people together to celebrate the
full spectrum of life, to get the most grand
experience out of this music. That's what
I'm really excited about—and after that, I'll
probably have nothing left."
Whatever may come of the album, it
seems like nothing is going to stop Fannar.
The music will go on, or at least his desire
for connection will remain the driving force
in his life.
"I felt a year ago that I wasn't sure if I
wanted to do music anymore,” he says.
“It was just a shock to see that I gave my
all in the first album and then everything
vanished... I'm turning 30 this year and
I felt the pressure of settling down, you
know, getting my finances straight. I had
this perfect mixture of teaching and doing
music, but then both were taken away from
me. I felt really low on energy and I wasn't
really sure if I had the guts and mind to do
another album, to move on with this. What
changed my mind was getting my head out
of the sand and just moving on."
"Do people
even go
to shows
anymore?
Are shows
relevant?"
"The great
thing about
ADHD is it's
a strength in
most situa-
tions in life
for me."
"Bring-
ing people
together to
celebrate the
full spec-
trum of life,
to get the
most grand
experience
out of this
music. That's
what I'm
really excited
about."