Reykjavík Grapevine - jun. 2023, Side 26

The Reykjavík Grapevine 6 / 23 26Music
The morally bankrupt economy of modern
Icelandic hype
Interview Hindsight Is 20 / 20
Gathering wisdom from rap veteran Emmsjé Gauti
WORDS Davíð Roach
Gunnarsson
IMAGE Supplied by Alda Music
Prettyboitjokkó, or Patrik
Atlason, is Iceland’s newest pop
star manufactured by joint patri-
archal forces in a corporate hand-
shake with a mainstream media
hungry for freaks and clicks. His
first single, conveniently also titled
“prettyboi tjokko”, was released
March 3 and it’s the kind of basic
bitch autotune-pop with a hiccuping
house-beat and a catchy chorus
that you can’t get out of your head
– even though you hate it.
In interviews, he stresses the utmost
importance for boys to look fine, to
be “drippin’,” and that anybody can
be a “prettyboitjokkó.” But to be that
you have to smell good and to smell
good you have to wear a cologne that
costs a lot of money (Tommy Hilfiger
is not expensive enough). Patrik has
a lot of money that flows on his social
media pages. He wears expensive
high fashion brands and drives a blue
Porsche, but wishes he could have
gotten a pink one (poor little PBT!).
All of his riches seem to derive from
the fact that he is an heir to a KFC/
Candy empire – a fact that he flaunts
like it’s something he’s earned. With
only one single out he had about six
tidbits and mini- interviews on Vísir,
all addressing him like he’s already
a bona fide pop star.
His manager is Birgitta Líf, also an
heiress (in her case to the World
Class gym empire), and her father
and Patrik’s grandfather both showed
up signing a supposed management
contract in a ridiculously staged
video posted to PBT’s Instagram
– that of course instantaneously be-
came news on Vísir. Soon we were
bombarded with advertisements
for prettyboitjokkó chocolate bars,
a World Class sponsored video, an
appearance in Vikan and a warm-up
gig for the Valur-Tindastóll basket-
ball playoffs game. His five song
album PBT hit streaming services on
May 5, and it’s more of the grinding
autotuned idiocy of single (that also
appears here).
It’s as if somebody set out with the
goal of making music even dumber
than ClubDub – and succeeding.
It’s enough to look at titles like
“Hot in the Club,” “All the Girls,”
and “Gugguvaktin” to tell as much.
Prettyboitjokkó is the product (liter-
ally) of a society where the barriers
between art, content, marketing
and commerce have evaporated
to the point of being indistinguish-
able. He’s the inevitable result of the
bottomless surface worshipping in
modern day Instagram influencer
culture, taken to its logical extreme.
One thing I find a bit charming is
his revival of the slang tjokkó from
around the turn of the century
(pronounced “chocko,” invoking
chocolate to reference a tan).
But that also reminded me of the
millennium figure which is his
closest ancestor, Gillzenegger,
whose EXIT-themed birthday party
PBT just happened to perform in
last weekend. We now seem to have
a whole generation on our hands
that has never heard of the term
“sell out”, and for which the con-
cept behind it doesn’t even register
as a bad thing. Where everything is
for sale all the time. It’s all just vibes
and “stemming.”
Prettyboitjokkó is the product
(literally) of a society where
the barriers between art,
content, marketing and
commerce have evaporated
so it’s impossible to tell
them apart.
Review Manufac-
turing Content
WORDS Sævar Andri
Sigurðarson
IMAGE Art Bicnick
Every person I pass on my way
to meet Emmsjé Gauti seems to be
loading a car for a trip to the country-
side or to lug unwanted junk to the
recycling centre. The same goes
for the rapper, who is preparing the
celebration of his 20th rap-iversary
party at Gamla Bíó on May 20. When
I arrived, Gauti and his wife were
prepping for a big trip to Sorpa
– a staple of Icelandic-ness on
those days when the sun makes an
appear ance during our sad excuse
for a spring. We venture inside for
a cup of coffee and the hope of
a thorough conversation about his
20-year career.
Instead of regurgitating his bio-
graphy back at him, I invited Gauti
Þeyr Másson to take stock of his
career.
Having pondered the request, he
tells me that he considers himself
to be the frontman of the band
Emmsjé Gauti, because he couldn’t
function without the great people
around him. “For these things to
work, you must consider the work
you just released to be your great-
est,” he says. “Even though I’ve
been in the business for this long,
I’m just as excited to show my
dad new demos and get feedback
on whether it’s good or not – or I
know that it’s great and I want the
acknowledgement.”
STAYING HUMBLE
The most important thing Gauti has
learned regarding the business side
of music is that he is merely a cog
in the wheel. “I would be nothing
without the people taking care of
the tech side of things, or the people
that perform with me. I’m not trying
to reduce the significance of me
standing in front of people. I believe
in being humble towards what you do
and how it can’t be taken for granted.
Sometimes I forget that and I have to
remind myself because from time to
time it can feel like a normal job.”
Gauti also mentions that making
music isn’t that different from
other jobs. Artists have to grind and
struggle to get to where they want
to be, just like dentists, builders or
athletes. When asked if he would still
be making music if he hadn’t already
reached this level of success, Gauti
takes pause. “It would definitely be
harder to give yourself the time to
create,” he finally says. “There have
been many artists who came up with
me that have fizzled out because the
main focus wasn’t music. Whether
they would have made it or not can’t
really be answered.”
NOT YOUR AVERAGE
RAPPER
Over the past 20 years, Emmsjé
Gauti has started a family, released
seven albums, dabbled in acting,
had a few successful business
ventures and established himself
as one of the country’s most popular
artists. He perks up at the mention
of his acting career. “The season of
Trapped that no one watched,” he
quips.
Despite his long list of accomplish-
ments, Gauti says he feels like he’s
just getting started. “ I find it so
boring to do nothing. We don’t have
infinite time here so why not make
the most of it?”
On top of everything else, Gauti has
also started working with Geð lestin,
a collaboration project between
the mental health advocacy group
Geðhjálp and the Red Cross that
aims to educate teens on the im-
portance of mental health. Asked
whether he has been diligent in
looking after his own mental health
throughout his career his answer
came fast. “The answer is a definite
no! I learned it the hard way. The sad
part is I know when I was that age,
I would never have listened to that
kind of information. Regardless, the
point is not to make everybody an
expert in mental health but to plant
the seeds so if the time comes, they
know where to ask for help.”
BACK TO THE PARTY
Regarding his anniversary concert,
Gauti aims to thoroughly enjoy him-
self, which hopefully spreads into the
crowd and translates into a fantastic
party. “I’m going all out! As things
are right now, we have a setlist of
32 songs that we are trying to chisel
out. I have never done a show like
this before. I’ve done Jülevenner
[Gauti’s annual Christmas concert]
but I’ve never had one where it has
this element of nostalgia and getting
past collaborators to pop by. It will be
a great time!”
Emmsjé Gauti celebrates the 20th
anniversary of his career on May 20,
in Gamla Bíó. You should go. Get your
ticket at Tix.is – if there are any left.
Even though I’ve been in the
business for this long, I’m just
as excited to show my dad
new demos.
The sad part is I know that
when I was that age, I would
never have listened to that
kind of information.